Just an Animatronic?
by Nightquesttarja
Summary: On an uneventful night, Mike accidentally falls asleep on the job. When he wakes up he realizes that a certain Pirate is in the room with him... But why wasn't it attacking?
1. The Beginning

**Disclaimer: Five Nights at Freddy's and its characters are property of Scott Cawthon. I have no ownership over anything in that universe.**

**A/N: Okay so I know I've already posted other unfinished stories here, but my mind has been so clogged with ideas I just had to get them out before I forgot. I will continue them though.**

**I suppose you could consider this an AU seeing that the characters act differently here from their game counterparts and the story itself is somewhat different. **

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Mike had to blink the sleep from his eyes as he glanced at the cameras yet again. It had been a rather uneventful night thus far; the animatronics seemed to not be moving at all.

It was the first day of his second week at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza and despite the horror that had transpired the previous week, he'd decided to just bite the bullet and return for the sake of the paycheck. He felt confident in his ability to keep the animatronics out anyway.

But it was 3:00am now and so far not a single thing had happened.

He sighed leaning back in his chair to stare at the old ceiling. He never really had the chance to realize just how boring this place was when quiet. The little creaks and cracks of the rotting building had no affect on him, having been exposed to the greatest of horrors over the past week.

He groaned silently, sitting up to check the camera feed. The animatronics were still in the same positions as they had been at midnight.

Why were they not moving? Had he just hallucinated the last week? Surely that couldn't be it!

Quite frankly the thought was disconcerting, filling him with uncertainty and oddly enough, frustration. He honestly preferred the animatronics move around somewhat. Not quite as much as on the fifth night, but second or even third would work just fine. As long as it detracted from this itching boredom that sat at the base of his spine.

But it seemed he would have no such luck. The animatronics weren't budging.

Sighing again, he let his head fall on the little wooden table in front of him, staring sideways at the childish depictions of the animatronics scattered among the wall. Each image seemed to have a happy child gathered 'round an animatronic; smiling and laughing.

He blinked slowly. _How could any child love these evil robots?_ He wondered, continuing to observe at the drawings.

His eyes wandered from image to image until eventually they slide shut and he fell asleep.

When he awoke sometime later, it was to a very strange voice.

"Ye be walkin' the plank should tha boss find ya sleepin' on th' job."

The security guard whirled up from his face-first position on the desk to see a crimson fox standing just behind his chair. All the life instantly drained from his face as he locked eyes with the Pirate.

This was it! He was certainly going to die now; stuffed into a Fazbear suit!

But the fox didn't make any moves, just settled a stare at him. "Aye, what ya be afraid of, lad?" he asked. "Ye look as if ya've swam in th' arctic!"

Mike felt the control over his tongue and jaw waver, stuttering erratically as he spoke. "Y-y-you're gonna—wh—what are you gonna do to me? I-I don't want to be stuffed in-inside a Fazbear suit!"

The Pirate just stared at him for a moment before he let out a bellowing laugh, causing an increase in the youth's panic.

"Why 'n tha Seven Seas would I be doin' a thin' like tha'?" he asked, humor in his deep voice.

Mike's eyes narrowed in confusion, "That's what you've been trying to do the past week." He said confidently.

"Y've got it wrong, matey, I not be tryin' to harm ya. Ye must be caught in a trance."

"Wh… then what were you trying to do?"

The fox's posture immediately sank into an incredulous one; hook and hand resting on respective hips. "Why, I've been tryin' to get to ya, laddie! Didn't think it'd be more plain th'n tha'."

The guard shook his head, "But… why? Why did you need to get to me?"

The fox stood tall once again, beckoned him with a hook. "Why don't we be goin' somewhere else to talk? This place be awfully small."

The youth's breath quickened again and he inched further back into the corner to get away from the animatronic. Tears of fear glistened in his eyes as he saw the figure move toward him.

Foxy noticed the boy's fear and sighed. "Lad," he said, tone serious, "there be nothin' t' fear. Ya have me word!" He didn't understand the guard's fear. He wasn't the first to fear him though, encountering it among many youths and even more adults over the years. Maybe it was all the sharp parts on him…

Being mindful of this, the fox lowered his hook, and extended his other hand out to help the guard up. But the youth was glued to the wall, regarding the hand as a venomous snake's head.

Puzzled, Foxy remained where he was; hand out in offer. "Matey, I c'n guarantee ye be safe wit' me."

Maybe it was the way he said it, but Mike felt his hand slowly reaching out toward the fox's. He felt a sick churning in his stomach—one that was supposed to serve as inhibition. But there was something else inside him—something that was telling him to trust the fox.

His thoughts were interrupted as he felt the cold sensation of metal firmly envelop his hand. He tensed violently at it, gradually relaxing as the pirate made no sudden moves to hurt him. Despite trusting the animatronic enough to allow himself to be guided by it, he still felt apprehensive about wherever they were going. But for some reason he felt…safe… That the fox wouldn't betray his word. But he was still just an animatronic—one that had tried to kill him not even a week ago… or at least that's what he thought.

Still he wasn't going to be foolish and give the fox his full trust… there was no way that would ever happen.

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**Future chapters will be longer!**


	2. Meeting the Band: Bonnie

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait! School's wrapping up so that means the work is nearly doubled. Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter!**

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A pang of fear surged through the entirety of Mike's body as he was lead down the darkened hallway by the very machine he should have feared most. He could feel the galling itch of perspiration collecting in his palm held firmly against the metal of the fox's. Even though this was an animatronic, he still couldn't help but wonder if the vulpine could feel his sweat in some way…he acted so much like an actual human, the thought just came naturally.

The fox suddenly stopped, the feeling of spaciousness consuming the guard's deafened senses. He must've been in the Dining hall; that was what lied at the end of the hall anyway.

When the animatronic turned to face him, all he could see were those two glowing pupils staring at him. "Aye matey," the fox said quietly, just above a whisper, "we can't be makin' much noise now. Th' others be quite the nit-pickers."

Mike had no words for the pirate; his mouth had stopped functioning along with his brain back in the booth.

Foxy swept a glance across the dark room and the dimly lit stage which was vacant, save for a lone mic stand supporting a microphone. When the fox returned his glare on the guard, he whispered, "Wait here, laddie… Cap'n Foxy's gonna warm 'em up firs'."

Again Mike didn't respond, but obediently watched as the animatronic crept away into the darkness. He felt his heart begin to pick up speed as the realization of his vulnerability set in. The fox was gone now, and there was nothing preventing the other animatronics from grabbing him in this open space. Not that the fox wouldn't have tried to kill him himself…

Thinking about it, Mike realized the danger of the situation he was in. He was actually _waiting_ for the animatronic to return, as if the thing wasn't actually bringing back a suit to stuff him in!

Mind racing, he shot a quick glance down the hallway he'd came from. It was a long shot, but if he ran for it he might actually reach his booth in enough time to close the heavy metal doors and block the machines out.

But just how fast were the animatronics?

He bit his lip in conflict. If the fox truly wasn't trying to get him into one of those suits, then maybe this was his opportunity to stop the animatronics from attacking him… but the only way to find that out was quite a risky one with rather…_permanent_ consequences.

Running a hand through his hair, he glanced around for another (safer) option. That's when his eyes befell upon Pirate Cove. Or more specifically, the violet curtains that shrouded it.

This option, too, was risky. If he hid behind the curtains until the fox returned, the animatronic might not be too pleased to find him inside his reclusive home, uninvited. But—

He froze suddenly when the sound of metal clunking on tiled floor met his ears. Looks like Pirate Cove it was!

In one fluid movement, he turned, dove beneath the curtains, and rolled back to his feet. He drew near to a gap in between the curtains, peeking through the space. All that met his eye initially was darkness. But after a moment, the faint humming of male voices reached his ears.

The main one was easily discernible as the gruff rumble of the pirate fox, each word spoken with ceaseless excitement. The other voice however, was more difficult. The tone was reserved, but excitable, with an edge of sharpness to it that sent a slight shiver of intimidation down his spine. The voice might not be quite as deep or rough as Foxy's, but it still seemed to embody strength.

"Foxy, I swear if this is just a trick to get me to play pirate—"

"Ye've little faith!" the fox cried indignantly. "I be tellin' ye the truth, lad, I've struck gold!"

"_Don't_ call me lad!" the other snapped sharply, causing an involuntary flinch from Mike behind the curtains. He was _not_ coming out to meet this one!

But that didn't mean he wasn't curious. He tilted his head until his eyes were nearly vertical trying to see the two animatronics. The darkness made it furiously hard, but he was able to just barely make out the curve of two tall ears, like antennae, nearly touching the ceiling, along with the familiar radiance of white glowing from two small points that stood parallel from each other. He had seen those eyes enough times to know exactly that it was the bunny.

The next voice to permeate the air was the defensive fox's. "Righty then, rabbit. What'll ya have me callin' ya?"

"Nothing." He answered. "Now, just show me whatever you dragged me here for."

"Aye," the pirate grumbled. "Ye be as salty as th' sea herself. Is this how ya be w'th the little ones?"

The rabbit growled. "My patience is wearing _very_ thin." He threatened.

"It be this way." He said, steps resuming.

Mike whirled sharply from the curtains, bit his fingers in consternation. Should he step out now, or should he wait for the rabbit to go away? If he doesn't, the rabbit might think Foxy's playing a prank on him… then the pirate would be angry at _him_ for causing it.

The footsteps stopped just outside of the cove. There was a brief silence before an impatient voice penetrated the air. "I don't see anything." It said, sounding ready to just leave.

Mike felt his heart leap into his throat. He had to make his decision now—wait or reveal himself.

"It should be righ' 'ere!" Foxy said both perplexed and somewhat saddened.

"Well, I don't know what 'it' is, so I can't help you much."

Another crushed moment went by the fox and he slowly opened his mouth as if to say something…that is, until out of the corner of his metallic peripheral, he caught sight of a violet curtain being pulled sheepishly open.

He whirled eagerly toward the figure that cautiously stepped out, nervous smile on his features and hands tightly at his sides.

"Thar ye be!" the pirate exclaimed with a small breath of relief, despite his lack of lungs. "What ye be hidin' back there f'r? I thought I told ya not t' go a wanderin'."

Mike wanted to respond, but felt his lungs quelled by the wide stare of the animatronic rabbit burning holes into him.

"No words laddie?" the fox inquired, tapping his shoulder jokingly with the blunt end of his hook. "Caught by th' siren's call, are ye? Unless…" his jovial tone subsided, features going solemn in thought. "Would ye be tryin' t' steal me loot?"

Mike had no chance to answer the fox's quite serious question, as another was hurled at him.

"Hey... you're that guard, aren't you?" the rabbit demand.

Mike winced at the harshness in the animatronic's tone. Perhaps he shouldn't have come out, now both were upset at him—and to make matters worse, the rabbit seemed to recognize him; the rancor was evident in his voice.

"Well?" he pressed.

Mike swallowed in a suddenly dry throat before nodding once. What was the animatronic going to do?

The purple rabbit suddenly grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt, pulled him close to his face. "Let's get something straight—when I'm at your door, do not close it in my face. Ever."

The guard's face went ghostly pale, body going limp under the strong metal grasp that was so close to his throat.

"Don't kill me," he whimpered pathetically at the animatronic.

Instantly the grasp on his shirt released and the man tumbled unceremoniously onto his rear. Confusion was the first thing to enter his mind as he saw the animatronic stare down at him with arms crossed.

"You're not that brave for someone who's supposed to be watching over things." he remarked.

Mike unsteadily lifted himself to his feet, just now noticing that Foxy was busily scanning the inside of his little abode. He glanced apprehensively back at the menacing purple bunny. "Y-y-you—you're gonna—I don't want to be stuffed into a suit!"

"Why would I do that?" he asked, annoyed.

Mike blinked in confusion, glancing back to Foxy who was still in his Cove. "You—I don't look like an endoskeleton to you?"

"…About as frail as one." He muttered.

"But…why were you trying to get into my booth?" the guard asked.

"The first time I was coming to see who the new guy was…but since you were so kind as to slam a metal door in my face, I decided I'd give you a good scare instead."

Mike winced at the memories of the animatronic in his door; every time quickly slamming the door button. "But what about the others?"

"Oh, I assure you they share the same sentiment."

"Wha—no, I mean the guards before me. What happened to them?"

The bunny just smirked, "I don't believe that's your business." Though to be honest, the rabbit had no idea what he was talking about.

"Lad," a rough voice interjected, "there be not a doubloon outta place!"

Mike quickly turned to the approaching fox, said: "I didn't take anything. I promise!"

The fox paused, uncertain. "Then what ye be doin' on me ship then, matey?"

Mike scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "I was… hiding."

"Fr'm what?" the pirate pressed, genuinely confused. "There be no kraken near."

Mike wanted to groan in annoyance. Now that his fear had somewhat subsided and he'd been able to discover the rabbit's personality a little, he felt self-conscious before him; he didn't want to admit to weaknesses… but he also didn't want to earn the bad graces of the fox either.

Sighing, he held his eyes downcast. "From the other animatronics." He felt the blood boiling in his cheeks. He wasn't happy about admitting that, but at least he denied the rabbit the satisfaction that he was specifically scared of him.

He tensed as a metal hand grabbed his shoulder, relaxed slightly as he saw that it was attached to the vulpine's body.

"Aye," he said softly, as if speaking to a child, "ye 'ere mighty spooked uh me 'n yer little place back there. But now ye be a par' of Foxy's crew! And Cap'n Foxy takes care of 'is crew, isn't tha' right, rabbit?"

The purple animatronic rolled his eyes at the fox's childish behavior, mumbled, "I am _not_ a part of your crew."

Mike felt the awkwardness of the conversation settle upon him. He felt like an outsider hearing a discussion not for his ears. Slowly, he let his eyes wander over to the swashbuckler who just looked downright disappointed.

The crimson-furred pirate shook his head, "Alas lad," he said to the other animatronic, "ye deny y'r ol' friend b'fore the new matey… whatever happened t' tha' time long ago?"

The guard instantly picked up on the sad nostalgia in Foxy's tone, wondered at it. _They must've been friends at one time,_ he figured. _Is this the way it is with the others?_ _Are they all like this rabbit?_ He seriously hoped they weren't, the animatronic's attitude was enough to drive a person off a cliff! It was a wonder the children actually liked him.

The purple animatronic snarled lowly at the swashbuckler, "I told you my name's not 'lad'." He said.

Before the fox had a chance to respond, Mike interjected. "What _is _your name?" he asked, praying he hadn't come across too brazen.

The rabbit crossed his arms, "It's _Bonnie_," he said with an indignant huff.

Bonnie? Now Mike had never actually met a 'Bonnie' before, but he was pretty sure it was a feminine name. Though, truth be told, the only Bonnie, he'd ever heard of was Bonnie Parker—the infamous outlaw/murderer who robbed many a bank alongside her lover Clyde Barrow back in the 1930s. While Mike highly doubted there was any relation between the rabbit and the outlaw, he knew of no other 'Bonnie' to go on.

The guard was pulled from his thoughts when he felt a heavy metal digit press into the center of his chest. Bonnie stared maliciously at him, "Do not think that because you know my name that we are, in anyway, closer. You don't bother me, I don't bother you."

He began to walk away, stopped briefly to glare at him from over his shoulder, "And if you say anything about my name, I'll make sure you regret it." He walked away without another word.

"Well that went well…" the guard breathed sarcastically; so low that only his ears could detect it. That is why he was so surprised when he saw Foxy swing his hook dismissively in the direction of the retreating rabbit.

"Ah, pay 'im no heed, matey. H'll come around eventually." He paused for a moment, looking skeptically at the guard. "Do ye have a name, laddie?" he asked. "I be just fine callin' ya 'matey' but I'd pr'fer ta know what ye parents be callin' ya, if ye don't mind."

He thought about it for a moment. He didn't like giving out his name to just random strangers for many reasons, but the fox didn't seem like the kind to betray so he figured it wouldn't do any harm this once.

"Mike." He informed.

The vulpine's eyes came alight with excitement, "Why, I don' believe I've ever known a Mike before. Say," he inquired, playfully tapping his hook against the guard's shoulder, "how does 'Matey Mike' sound?"

Mike did his best not to betray his skepticism of the name. In truth he thought it was too childish, but…the look in the pirate's metal eyes… He was never good at saying no.

Smiling as sincerely as he could, he let the lie slip out: "I like it." He said.

"Great!" the fox exclaimed. "Now firs' things firs', we need ta be gettin' ye familiar w'th the others!"


	3. Meeting the Band: Chica & Freddy

His first impression upon entering the kitchen was that it was awfully cramped; the overlarge appliances hogging most of the space leaving only a narrow loop of passage around a long stainless steel table in the center. But the space wasn't the primary concern on his mind—no, that would be the large metal chicken and bear staring in disbelief at him.

The air of tension that consumed the room was tighter than the strings on a harp, falling out of tune so quickly as it was played. Thankfully, Foxy didn't seem the least bit bothered by it and strode toward the chicken with a rather ceremonious gait.

"Are you…" the chicken asked, eyes not moving from the guard.

"I believe it is," the bear responded, shock evident on his features.

The fox gave a firm but over exaggerated nod, "Aye; the one 'n only."

The moment the vulpine had finished his sentence, the chicken's eyes fell into narrow slits and her maligning glare fell back upon the guard.

"So," she began, arms crossed, "you're the genius that's been wasting all the power! Y'know, because of you, the freezers haven't been working."

"Chica, please," the bear chastised, glancing back to Mike. "We're both surprised to finally see you outside of that office."

Chica snorted, turning away, "_So_ surprised." She said sarcastically, depositing an empty metal tray in a large sink.

Freddy weaved his way around a large metal table, making his way toward the fox and guard. Like the fox, Freddy was quite tall, standing a good two feet over him. Altogether, he probably stood 7'6", and his size! Sure Foxy was tall, but Freddy was bulky, a figure that was much more intimidating to be facing. Actually, his figure was rather similar to the rabbit—Bonnie. But the bear at least seemed cordial...for some reason.

The brown animatronic stopped a comfortable distance from the man; staring down at him, smile unwavering. "So, what's the occasion?" he asked. "What made you decide to leave your post?"

Mike shifted somewhat nervously under his gaze. Out of all the animatronics, Freddy's eyes unnerved him the most, that penetrating stare right up in the Right Hall camera—just two points of light floating in two black pits. Freddy had been the most difficult to keep out of the room and he just barely managed to do it.

Thinking about it, Mike began to wonder why they were acting so docile now when they were relentlessly trying to reach him not even a week ago. He looked back at Freddy, opening his mouth as if to speak. But Freddy beat him to it.

"I'm sure you have many questions," he said as if he had read the guard's mind, "and we'll answer them in time. Just know that you are safe with us here, and any preconceived fears you have may be cast aside." He paused for a moment before continuing. "Allow me to introduce myself—I am Freddy Fazbear," he lifted his top hat in formal greeting, "and this one, back by the sinks, is Chica."

The chicken gave a dismissive wave, not deigning to turn around. It was simply by her demeanor that he was able to determine her very actions without need for preface. She was bold, acting without consideration or cadence. She left no words unspoken in her analysis of others, and her thoughts of the guard were simply that of disinterest.

Freddy seemed slightly perturbed by this response, shook his head slightly. "You'll have to excuse her, she's not used to guest at this time of night." He quickly plummeted into the next question. "So, I see you've met Foxy…"

Mike glanced back at the fox just as the pirate swung his hook arm around his shoulder. "Sure did!" the pirate chimed, "No' too much fer talkin', but just give ol' Foxy some time. Ye'll be a sea dog in no time!"

The bear nodded, seemingly familiar with the swashbuckler's way of talking. He also seemed to understand the guard's confusion in the matter, and gave a smile; one that had such skill it seemed to speak to both the pirate and guard at the same time.

"Foxy would you mind excusing Mike and me for a moment?"

The vulpine frowned, metal ears drooping. "Ye ain't gonna scare 'im off are ya?"

For a moment, Mike caught a flash of worry in the bear's eyes, wondered at it. _Bonnie had that same look in his eyes! _He remembered. _Could it be that they all fear the fox? But… why? What does that mean for me?!_

Without delay, Freddy approached the fox; put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "I promise he'll still be here when I'm done." He offered a warm smile to assure the fox, but Mike could tell it was forced.

Luckily Foxy seemed to buy it and he nodded, "All right, matey," he said, patting the bear on the shoulder, "I be givin' ya me trust!" It came across as a sort of friendly warning, signifying he wished not to be betrayed, but at the same time knew he wouldn't be.

Freddy watched gratefully as the fox turned and left. Once the door closed with a solid thump, the bear turned to face Mike, face still jovial, but solemn now. "Well, there's no use simply standing around here." He stared directly at Mike as he spoke, "Why don't you grab an apron and join us in making this pizza? It'll give us a chance to talk."

The guard cast a wary glance at the spot of neatly sorted ingredients on the stainless steel table. "Me? Cook? Uh, I don't think I'm anything close to a chef." Hell, to be honest he was still shocked that robotic animals were even attempting to cook! There was no way he'd add fuel to that fire by throwing in his pitiful, if not hazardous, culinary skills. Not to mention being around the animatronics in a place of such sharp utensils…

But Freddy just gave a light wave, dismissing his claims. "No worries, we'll guide you through it, step-by-step. It's not too difficult."

Mike let out a sigh as discreetly as his body would permit. He really didn't want to do this, but he could think of no feasible way around it. At least the thought of having questions answered was satisfying...if only a little.

Awkwardly, he shambled over to pick up an apron, struggling to tie it around his torso. After a few attempts he finally got it and went to join the two other animatronics around a large table.

"So," Freddy began, hands busily assorting ingredients, "Would you mind telling us your name?"

He hesitated as a metallic clanging sound startled him, and he glanced over to see Chica hastily sifting through a cupboard of pans, her height easily permitting her to see up on the high shelves. After a moment he returned his glance to the patient animatronic, quickly said, "It's Mike."

The bear nodded silently. "Well it's a pleasure to finally meet you, Mike! It's not often that we get the opportunity to see others off-stage." Mike trembled as he saw the animatronic draw a rather large knife from the counter behind him. The bear hesitated for a brief moment, processor whirring in thought. After a moment he carefully set the knife down and stood straight, turning to face the avian. "Chica, do we perchance have another peel around here?" he asked.

She shook her head, still focused on her own creation, "I think they put them away for the night, for whatever reason."

Freddy closed his mouth, appearing deep in thought. After a moment he spoke, "They must've moved them into storage. I'll go get them. Chica, if you could get Mike started in the meantime…"

Mike swallowed. He was being left alone, with her! And she was supposed to _interact_ with him! The thought was dreadfully unnerving, more so than being left alone with Bonnie. At least with him, it's fairly obvious what his motives are, but Chica… it's a whole other story. Just from the short time around her, the avian had already managed to invoke intimidation and disconcert in him. She was so obvious, yet…mysterious. Her emotions were readable, yet unreadable. It made him feel unsure of what to say to her, how to respond, and he had no idea why.

But he knew one thing—he didn't like it.

A careful click of a door signified Freddy's exit and Mike just stood there at his side of the table in the waking silence. He felt incredibly uncomfortable as he glanced at the robotic chicken hastily working at her counter away from him. Was she going to actually help him? She seemed to listen to what Freddy had to say and it only made sense that she'd adhere to his requests. Then again, she didn't seem like the type to fear consequences so maybe she was simply choosing punishment over him... Did she really hate him that much?

"What are you doing?"

Mike jumped at the sudden voice, glancing up to see an irritated chicken staring at him from across the table. "Uh-h-h-m-m-m…" he trailed, failing to find his thoughts.

She stood there silently eyeing him in suspicion. There was an unreadable glare in her metallic eyes that sent worried chills down his spine, like she was about to deliver the verdict in court. "Quit daydreaming and listen to me." She said impatiently. "Now," she pushed a large shapeless blob of dough onto the clouded tabletop, "Watch me."

Mike watched intently as she picked up a rolling-pin and with much practiced, precise motions, began rolling it through the dough. She continued the action until the substance was near perfectly flat, then abruptly stopped and handed the utensil over to him. "Now you do it." she said.

"Sounds easy enough," he nodded, cracking his fingers in preparation as he accepted the rolling-pin.

Chica rolled her eyes at the action, "Don't get too cocky, this is only your first time." She said pointedly.

He shrugged, "I've seen enough pizzas in my life to know how they're shaped." He hesitated just above the pizza.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"How…big do I make it?" he asked, regretfully.

She crossed her arms, "I thought it was easy?"

He sighed in irritation, "It will be once I learn the basics."

Chica huffed, "Sure it will." She muttered.

"Why are you being this way?! What did I do to make you all so upset?"

She opened her beak as if to respond, but closed it as Freddy came through the doors, preceded by a stack of large brightly polished wooden peels, their elongated handles making the weight uneven.

"I apologize for the long wait!" he said, "I stopped to have a word with Bonnie on the way so it took a little longer than expected." He veered over to the table, carefully placed the stack in such a way that barely a sound was made. When he stepped from behind the tower, he caught sight of the avian and guard standing nearly face-to-face, smiled. "So, how far along are you on that pizza?" he asked enthusiastically.

"No farther than the dough," Chica answered exasperatedly.

"Not like I had much of a chance..." Mike muttered in retort which didn't go unnoticed by the chicken.

Freddy frowned slightly at the revelation, rubbing his metal chin in thought. "Perhaps making pizza should wait," he said. "Perhaps a tour of the restaurant would be more beneficial. It's up to you, Mike."

The guard just stuttered before the offer, not necessarily wanting to be led around the haunting dark restaurant by an animatronic bear. But he couldn't exactly refuse now could he? If the bear—hell, if _any_ of the animatronics wanted to kill him, he would have no chance at stopping them, not in his current position anyway. Thinking about it though, it didn't seem like they were out for his blood. Sure they weren't particularly friendly (with the exception of Freddy), but they didn't seem to be dangerous. He had some concerns about Foxy though, but had yet to witness anything from the curious fox.

_Well...maybe I can get some answers from this_. Mike thought. Truth be told these animatronics, despite their murderous reputations (and attempts), had really intrigued him, especially the strange aura surrounding the pirate. And he knew that of all of them, Freddy would be the best one to answer his questions. Maybe it was just the bear's formal, intelligent demeanor, or maybe it was just the fact that he was the only one to show kindness (in a level-headed way) toward the guard, but Mike felt an odd...connection with the animatronic. It wasn't like friendship or anything, but... the bear just seemed trustworthy.

Glancing back at the tall animatronic he permitted a single nod, "Sure." he said, eager for answers.

"Excellent!" Freddy exclaimed joyously, clapping his paws together. "Now I just have to find Bonnie..."

Mike frowned as he felt his heart stop, "Wait!" he stopped the animatronic just as he turned around. "You're bringing him, too?" He couldn't handle this, he didn't want that bunny to be there with them! There's no way he'd feel comfortable enough to ask Freddy any questions while the purple animatronic was there, glaring at him...

Freddy just chuckled good-naturedly, shaking his head, "Bonnie's the one giving the tour, I'm much too busy to do it myself."

The horror of Freddy's words had hit Mike like a boot to the stomach, making him want to retch. He was being given a tour of the restaurant..._by_ the rabbit! Just the two of them—alone... No, it couldn't be, how could his luck be so bad?!

He glanced down at his watch in hopes that it might be near the end of his shift.

It wasn't. Not even passed 4am.

He winced as he looked up to the empty spot the bear had just recently occupied, knowing his fate was inevitable.

All there was now was silence...silence and the taunting voice of Chica behind him as she mockingly said, "Good luck..."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long! For some reason it gave me a rough time. But now I finally finished it and can quickly work on the next.**

**Now that we've met all the animatronics we can start to focus on building the relationships with them. Just in case you're all curious, the main relationship in this story will be between Mike and Foxy, (not in a romantic sense, just so we're clear). But each of the other animatronics will have their own development as well, so don't worry about them being ignored ;).**

**So, that's it for now. Let me know what you thought of the chapter, and I'll see you next chapter! **


	4. On Tour

**June 3, 1987**

It was the third shift of new night watchman named Craig Peters and all the animatronics were just unwinding for the night.

Chica was the first to speak, "Should we go meet the new guy now? It's getting kinda awkward walking around with him just watching us."

"Gotta agree with her on this one, Freddy," Bonnie chimed, placing his guitar on a stand beside him.

The bear just glanced between the two respectively before shrugging, "I suppose an introduction couldn't hurt." He said. "We'll need to find Foxy first. If he's going to meet one of us, he might as well meet all of us."

The other two gave a wordless nod and followed him off the stage toward Pirate Cove. The moment they arrived, the fox eagerly stuck his head out, eye patch flapping open as he asked, "What be th' occasion, mateys?" he asked cheerfully. "Are we goin' on a voyage?"

Freddy shook his head, warm smile adorning him features, "No." He said evenly. "We're going to meet the new employee and ask that you join us."

"Tha lubber in tha back?" the fox asked, eyes quickening with interest.

He nodded, "We all agree that it is only right that we introduce ourselves to a new family member."

"Aye!" Foxy swung his hook jovially. "I finally be gettin' a new firs' matey ta 'venture with! No more lonely nights 'n tha Cove!"

A look of relief washed over Bonnie's face as he closed his eyes and quietly cheered, "Freedom!" He quickly composed as Freddy sent him a harsh glare.

Foxy suddenly descended from his stage, strolling up to the rabbit with a look that resembled something similar to guilt. He swung his hook arm over the purple animatronic's shoulder in a friendly half-embrace, ignoring the soft growls of protest from the rabbit as he said: "Sorry me hearty, bu' I be replacin' ya. Ye're j'st no' tha best pirate. Ye still be 'o par' o' me crew though! Jus' no' me first mate." The words seemed to physically hurt the pirate, but he had to say them. He was a captain after all, and captains had to make tough decisions sometimes to save their crew. And just like the decision, he himself had to be tough in this, despite how difficult it was.

Bonnie on the other hand, was taking the information really well. He hated it when Foxy would make him play pirate, forcing him to dress up in ludicrous costumes that were much too small for him all while forcing him to talk in that stupid pirate accent... _Ahoy, this! Yo-ho, that!_ It drove him nearly to the point of becoming the world's first mentally insane animatronic. To say his relief was minor would be an understatement.

After a short moment passed, Chica rolled her eyes at the scene. "All right, let's get back there before the night ends." she remarked. Freddy nodded in agreement.

"If we're all ready..." he said, trailing as he glanced at each of them.

Foxy was the first to pounce on the opportunity. "Let's be goin'!" He cheered, hook raised prominently in the air.

Before any of them could respond the fox had already began his charge down the hall, forcing the others to move hurriedly to catch up with him.

From his booth, Craig spotted not one, but all four animatronics racing down the hall toward him, the fox in the lead. "Shit!" He gasped, hand slamming the door button closed. The heavy metal door slammed shut with a solid thump, isolating him from the four menacing metal robots. He hadn't thought much of it when they ventured down the hall before, chalking it up as just their free-roam mode leading them here. But seeing them all together, _running_ down the hall... they _wanted_ to get to him!

_This would've been nice to know when I applied!_ He thought rancorously. A red face glaring at him from the window caught his attention. It tapped its hook against the glass.

"Ahoy, lad!" He greeted. "Why don't ye be openin' tha door so we c'n git in?"

A large brown hand gently ushered the fox aside, permitting himself a view of the guard who looked utterly paralyzed from terror. Freddy spoke with practiced calm. "Hello, sir," he dipped his top hat in courteous greeting. "I see that you're afraid of us, but I assure you there's no need to be. Allow me to introduce myself—my name is Freddy Fazbear, and these," he gestured at the three animatronics behind him, "are my good friends, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy."

As the bear named each animatronic, they all smiled respectively in return, Bonnie giving a casual "hey!"

Now silence descended upon the scene, leaving the guard to stare awkwardly at the three expectant faces glaring at him. _What is this?_ He thought, completely bewildered. Why were they trying to communicate with him like this? _What is their game?_

He continued to stare quizzically at the four animatronics until the yellow one—Chica, as Freddy had said—suddenly spoke up.

"You got a name, or what?" she asked, arms crossed impatiently.

The question brought him out of his thoughts. Sitting up he thought: _Should I humor them? I mean there's no way they're going to persuade me to open that door... _he paused, an idea forming in his mind._ Perhaps playing their game could work to my advantage..._

Outside in the hall, Chica scoffed, rolling her eyes as she declared, "Okay, he's broken. We—"

"Craig." A voice from within the booth said. All the animatronics shot him a glance. "My name's Craig." He repeated.

The silence that loomed in air was brief, being put to rest by a generous smile that formed across Freddy's face. "Craig." he said as if filing the name into his mind. "Well it's nice to meet you, Craig. I sincerely hope we haven't frightened you too badly. We are here to entertain! It is what we were constructed for. And even though our primary audience is mainly children, that doesn't mean the notion of entertainment cannot be extended unto adults as well. We can perform many functions!"

Craig analyzed the bear, noting the nuances of his speech. The animatronic sounded desperate, outwardly kind as if programming restricted him from acting any other way. _Perhaps they really are harmless... like he said, they're programmed to entertain children after all. _He stared into the eyes of Freddy for a moment longer, noticing the innocence behind them. He thought: _This might just work. They seem pretty trusting_. He smiled. _And they're pretty close to the children._

* * *

Mike had never been on Death Row before, but if he was, he assumed this was probably what it felt like.

It was easy to assume Bonnie wouldn't be thrilled by the revelation of becoming a tour guide to an individual he resented, but to actually _see_ his reaction; to see the indiscreet offended expression that bulged upon realization…it just made him feel all-the-more uncomfortable.

And even now, standing in the Dining Hall alone with the rabbit long after Freddy had left, he felt no more familiar with the animatronic.

Bonnie stood staring down at him with a firm scowl, features curved downward into a grim pout. He did not like this guard, from the very first moment he had noticed him through that window up to this very moment he had held a tense loathing of him.

_I don't trust him,_ he thought. _The way he keeps us away, like he's hiding something… He'll soon realize who's in control here. Wastes half the night making me show him around, will he? Expects me to treat him like a friend, does he?_

Mike shifted awkwardly under the cold stare, "So…" he said, trying to break the tension, "there can't be much to see, this place being small and all…" he laughed nervously, hoping his attempt at idle chatter worked.

Bonnie narrowed a glare at him, "Why? What do you have to do?" he questioned accusatorily.

"Wha—nothing! Well, I _technically_ have a job to do, but seeing as though this place isn't that big _and_ I'm gonna be roaming around…" he fell silent at the unenthused look Bonnie was giving him. The rabbit crossed his arms.

"Are you done?" he asked.

Mike nodded silently, not wanting to further irritate the animatronic.

Bonnie turned smoothly on a heel to face the stage, not wasting a single moment as he began. "This is the Stage," he said, hand gesturing over to the little platform of aged, warping wood. "I'm sure you've already seen this."

"Kinda hard to miss." Mike commented.

Bonnie ignored him, already set on moving on. "Let's go." He said, heading now toward the opposite side of the dining room, just off to the left of the stage. There, he swung open a heavy black door with a sign that read, 'Employees Only'. Immediately the rabbit entered the dark room, navigating its parameters with confidence. Mike guessed it was some type of optical rigging that was similar to night vision… at least he hoped.

As he entered the room, Mike had to throw out his hands to get a feel of his surroundings. The first thing his hands came in contact with was soft like fabric yet firm like reinforced plastic. It also had an odd shape, too, curving inward and up.

"This is Backstage," Bonnie suddenly informed, sounding as if he was on the other side of the room. "Now I know you're not a child, but don't touch anything. The masks have very sharp parts that could severely cut you."

Mike nearly dislocated his shoulder from the speed with which he withdrew his hand from the object he now knew was a mask. He swallowed with a sudden realization of where he was—Backstage… where the suits he was supposed to be stuffed in were. A feeling of illness swept over him as the next thought arrived: _Was all this just a ploy to get me back here to stuff me into a suit?_

He felt his breath hitch, speeding up to match his heart's racing. The darkness was doing nothing to suppress his panic, only adding to it. This was it; he was going to die here! He was going to be grated into a suit and—

Brightness suddenly enveloped the room, causing the guard to shield his eyes. When his eyes adjusted and he lowered them, he was met with the amused stare of the purple rabbit from across the room.

"You're not scared are ya?" He asked teasingly.

Mike suddenly realized his cowering pose, straightened to correct himself. Chagrined, he avoided the question and countered with his own: "Why was it so dark in here?" He allowed his annoyance to slip through as he said this.

"Changing the subject, eh?" The rabbit shrugged. "There is no reason for the lights to be on back here. You should know this seeing that _you're_ the guard."

Mike cursed under his breath. He was right; this place had enough power issues as it was. Adding these lights to the consumption list would drain it all the quicker. But… how did the animatronics know about the place's electrical operation? They were supposed to be entertainers, were they not?

Bonnie rolled his eyes at the guard's expression, "It's just lights; they turn on and off. Don't look so amazed." He remarked.

"You guys seem to know a lot for robots." He said suspiciously.

Bonnie narrowed his eyes into deadly slits. "I'm no robot." He informed firmly. "Robots can't think. I can. Don't mix that up again, got it?"

Mike threw his hands up, "Sorry, jeez! It's not every day I see a large metal bunny that can think."

"Well now you know." he said, not quite as heated as before. "And none of the others are _robots_ either!"

Mike found himself impressed by the level of hatred with which the rabbit expressed the word: robots. _I've never heard anyone say something with as much hatred as that! He must really despise robots! _Thinking about it, he now found himself struggling to even say the word in his mind. _Shit! Now he's gotten into my mind!_

Opening his mouth, he prepared to question the rabbit but jumped when the door behind him was thrown open with a loud bang.

"Thar ye be!" A rough voice declared, relieved. The fox waited not a moment longer before striding into the room, disregarding the guard's nervous posture as he threw an arm over him. "I been lookin' over all tha Seven Seas fer ya, lad!" He cheered jostling the guard.

From across the room, Bonnie's eyes narrowed and he growled at the uninvited guest. "What are you doing here, Foxy? I'm trying to give a tour."

The pirate waved a dismissive hand at him, "Ah-h-h, the lad be no' needin' a tour!" he said, turning to the human. "Wha' ye be needin' is ta get a bearin' on treasure!"

Mike watched the pirate apprehensively as he swung his menacing hook haphazardly around. He had been lucky thus far, but it was only a matter of time before that hook would embed itself deep within his skin…

"Foxy," the rabbit began, curtly, "Freddy _told_ me to do this. If you got a problem with it, go talk to him."

Foxy just shook his head sadly at the rabbit, speaking sideways to Mike. "Aye, he be th' saltiest matey I ever sailed with. Quite a shame, it be… say, have ye ever heard tha tale o' those ears? Why, they—"

"All right I've heard enough!" Bonnie declared abashedly, storming over and pulling Mike out of the room by the arm.

The guard winced at the tighter-than-necessary grip, pulling at the metal hand to try to escape. From behind, he could hear the indignant fox pipe up.

"Avast! No one be maroonin' Cap'n Foxy!" the sounds of clanking feet followed directly after, quickly catching up to them as they reached the hallway. "W'ere do ya think yer off ta?" he demanded, a sinister edge lacing his voice. Bonnie was having none of it.

"Foxy, we're not playing pirate, so quit getting in the way!"

Foxy looked outright offended, "Argh, belay that talk! Wha' could be bet'er th'n bein' a pirate?"

"Many things…" Bonnie mumbled.

Despite being trapped in the grasp of Bonnie, Mike couldn't help but find the scene interesting. _Bonnie seems wary of the fox, but not enough to avoid arguing with him, even though he hadn't started it… It's as if he hates the fox but is too scared to just tell him to 'get lost'… But why!? Is there a bomb in him or something?_

He continued to watch the scene unfold, Foxy now off in explaining to them the many wonders of being a pirate. One glance at Bonnie told him the rabbit was losing patience—no, he looked ready to tear out his metallic eyes from the frustration. And the hand around his wrist was tightening…

"Uh…" Mike said as he shifted uncomfortably to try to relieve the building stress on his arm. The stress amounted, becoming a denting impression in his skin. And it got tighter…tighter. Mike pressed his eyes closed tightly, praying that the grasp would lighten up before he'd end up shouting. But it didn't, getting tighter, tighter...

He couldn't take it anymore. Speaking quickly from the pain, Mike gasped, "Foxy, how 'bout you go _bring_ us stuff so we can see it?"

Foxy seemed to lighten up instantly. "Great idea, lad! I be righ' back!"

The second he took off down the hall, Mike glanced up at the rabbit. "Uh, can you umm… let go of my arm, now?"

Bonnie seemed to snap back to reality upon hearing the guard and instantly obliged, watching him rub the spot that was obviously now in pain.

"Why did you do that?" he suddenly asked, voice full of interest.

Surprised by the question, Mike glanced up to stare at the tall animatronic. He felt a shrill of fear pass through him as he realized he was under the rabbit's full attention, their proximity much too close.

"Uh-h-h," he struggled for words. The rabbit was a delicate one it seemed, tending to overreact to the smallest of things. He had to word this just right: "I only have until six before my shift ends. And that's not long from now."

Bonnie stared at him for another moment, face unreadable. _He's lying,_ he thought. _He's afraid of Foxy, it's obvious by the way he looks at the fox... Freddy must have told him, then._

Without a single warning, the animatronic turned to face down the hall, said: "We don't have much left, so we might as well start now."

"Hold on, you're not gonna wait for him to get back?" the guard asked, gesturing over his shoulder to Pirate Cove.

The rabbit stared at him for a moment before huffing incredulously, "Was that a serious question?" he asked. And he thought: _Is this kid stupid? He drives Foxy away and wants to wait for him to come back!? He must be purposely trying to annoy me! I should've know just by the way he questions me. It's no wonder I like children better._

He sighed, "Just follow me." he said.

* * *

It was around 5:40 that the animatronics all reconvened in the main dining hall. Mike and Bonnie were the last to arrive, wandering in from the west hall. The rabbit wore that firm sullen pout on his face that strikingly resembled exhaustion while Mike just followed silently; mind off in its own realm.

Foxy, standing just to the left of Freddy, sent the rabbit and guard a dirty look. "Ye be betrayin' yer oaths, maroonin' ol' Cap'n Foxy like ye did."

Mike avoided the fox's glare out of guilt. Just by the pirate's voice he could tell he was angry and it didn't help that it had been him who had lied to the vulpine. He mentally cursed at his weakness. This was a metal animatronic fox that had programmed emotions, there was no way he was truly feeling sadness, even though it felt completely real.

After a moment, Foxy let out a low growl. "I had enough o' this bilge!" He announced. "I goin' ta me Cove!" He stomped off childishly toward the velvet curtains, disappearing behind them with a tempestuous swish. The action was somewhat frightening to the guard, knowing the force those metal arms possessed. It wouldn't take much for an errant swing to strike an unsuspecting child... he tried swallowed in a suddenly dry throat, realizing that that could very well be the reason he was supposedly 'out-of-order'.

From beside him, Bonnie appeared unaffected by the fox's outburst and instead, focused directly on Freddy. "I've taken him everywhere. He's seen all there is to see." he informed, somewhat exasperated.

"Thank you, Bonnie." Freddy said, nodding once at the animatronic before turning to face the guard. "And what did you think?" He asked.

The question pulled Mike out of his thoughts, "Uh-h-h, it was pretty good," he lied. "Got to see Backstage and stuff so... yeah." He felt a nervous constricting in his chest; tense and anticipating the bear's response. He sincerely hoped the animatronic would buy it, sparing him from further awkwardness.

"I see," he said. He shifted to stare at Bonnie. "And what do you think of Mike?" He asked the rabbit. "Surely you've spent enough time with him to know him better by now."

Mike shifted awkwardly as Bonnie sent a glance his way. He had a pretty good idea of what the rabbit thought of him, and it was nothing close to pleasant. But for him to say it out loud—with all the others present to hear... he didn't think he could bear that stress.

The purple animatronic held his sidelong glare on the guard, processor whirring as a thought formulated. "It's too early to tell..." he said begrudgingly.

Mike nearly did a double-take at the bunny, not even bothering to conceal his shock. Chica seemed to share the sentiment...just not in the same way.

"_Pfft_, please!" She blurted boldly. "Don't try to spare his feelings!" She rolled her eyes when Freddy sent her a harsh glare, but still got the message. Bonnie on the other had, had a few things to say about that.

"I'm not 'sparing his feelings'," he said matter-of-factly. "I just don't know him well enough to make my opinion yet. I didn't even know his _name_ until Freddy said it a minute ago!"

Chica looked unswayed, "You've spent more time with him than any of us," she pointed out. Bonnie gritted his teeth in annoyance.

"All right, what do you think of him, then?" he demanded, metal finger nearly poking the guard's right eye out as it pointed at him.

The chicken stared directly at Mike as she spoke. "He can't make pizza." she said flatly, no fear in her eyes as she admitted it to him. "And kinda wimpy when it comes to being around us."

Mike felt his face grow indignantly red, Bonnie's low chuckles not helping. He was no wimp! The animatronics had tried to kill him not a week ago, that would terrify anyone! It didn't make him a wimp!

But the biggest surprise of all came when Freddy spoke, saying, "It is true that you are a bit skittish around us, and I do hope we can work that out soon."

He just deadpanned, thinking:_ Thanks, Freddy..._

Suddenly a digital beeping sound caught everyone's attention, drawing all eyes onto the black watch around his wrist.

"What's that?" Bonnie asked, curiously leaning in for a better look.

"It's my watch. And the beeping means my shift's over." The relief those words instilled was overbearing, and all the guard could think about now, was his nice, warm bed which was—most importantly—animatronic free. Freddy seemed to understand this as well.

He swept once final glance across the dining hall, satisfied with its tidiness. "All right," the bear announced, "We'd best get into position and let Mr. Schmidt go home. We'll see you tomorrow night, I presume?"

Tomorrow... that's right, he had to actually come _back_ to this place.

As inevitable as it was Mike nodded. Despite whether or not he wanted to return, he knew he had no choice. He'd have to come back in order to keep his job.

Freddy permitted that warm smile he's so fashioned to, said: "Great! We'll see you tomorrow night then." He glanced at his two companions joining him silently on the stage. "Don't be rude." He berated softly, gesturing to Mike.

Both animatronics stared at the bear for a moment before exasperatedly turning back to the guard and mumbling in unenthusiastic voices, "See ya tomorrow." Chica even added an "I guess" at the end.

But despite that, their pitiful farewells weren't the least bit assuring. But the guard didn't care. His shift was over and it was finally time to go home and sleep.

Mike stepped outside to the red blossoming of dawn, felt the dew-laden tiredness on his eyelids. That had been the longest night he'd ever endured, and the thought of returning the next night to do it all over again made it almost dreadful. And on top of it all, he now felt cruddy for what he did to Foxy. He laughed: _Look at me! Feeling sympathy for a metal fox... he does seem more complex than just that though_. He pursed his lips in conflict, a small sigh escaping. _Damn! Why am I so torn up about this?_

Pondering for another moment, he clenched his teeth. "Fuck it!" he cursed, turning and walking back into the pizzeria. He had to deal with this now. Just a quick apology and then it would bother him no more. He shuffled over to Pirate Cove, "Foxy? It's Mike. Listen—" he stopped mid-sentence, eyes befalling the tall animatronic standing lifelessly in the center of the stage. For a brief moment he feared the fox was dead, but quickly remembered the time.

"Damn it, that's right!" He groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Well I guess I have no choice but to wait 'til tonight. Ugh, why do you guys have to power down at six!?" He chuckled darkly to himself as he realized what he had just said. A week ago, those words would have never entered his mind, even as a joke. Things had changed now, _they_ change. Call him crazy, but as he continued to stare at the hunched form of the fox, he felt almost—sad.

_You're just back here...all alone, huh? What did you do to scare the others so badly? You don't seem that scary..._

He frowned at the unresponsive fox. Even though he knew it was pointless to make amends with the fox, he felt it was too important not to. There was so much mystery surrounding this place and its inhabitants and he was determined to figure it out. And with that he turned and left Pirate Cove, knowing exactly the first thing he was going to do when his next shift began.

* * *

**A/N: Hey, guys! Sorry this took so long, life's been pretty busy. Anyway I'll try to keep this short: I seem to have time now, so chapters should come out more frequently. Also, regarding the story itself, expect more flashbacks and possibly flash-forwards in the future. I have a good idea how long this story will be, but it's too early to tell. Right now the plan is around twenty chapters, but we'll have to see. There's quite a lot of story to tell.**

**I'm really glad to hear that you guys like my portrayals of these characters! They're the most important part of writing to me, plot a very close second. So I hope the paths I take with these characters are interesting and that you all wind up liking them a lot more by the end of the story.**


	5. Distractions

Mike fulfilled his promise the very next night, quickly visiting his booth to begin his shift before making his way down to Pirate Cove. Like he'd assumed, Foxy was there, still in 'slumber'. Only a few minutes later, when the clock struck midnight, did he whir alive.

Mike stood there almost furtively as the vulpine gathered his senses, quickly noticing him standing a few feet from the opened curtains. He frowned, arms crossing sullenly.

"Wha' do ye wan'?" he asked, obviously recounting the betrayal from the night before.

Mike swallowed in a suddenly dry throat, seeing the pirate who stood a good foot-and-a-half taller than him standing there, hook glimmering menacingly in the dim light. Now he didn't have much experience with heartfelt apologies, nor did he consider himself any good at them, but he refused to let that deter him. Folding his hands, he spoke: "Um-m-m, hey…Foxy." He frowned at how pathetic it came out. He sounded like a nervous Kindergartner approaching a reproachful teacher. Foxy seemed to know this.

"Ye don't belon' back here," he said curtly, "Ye bes' be off 'fore I keelhaul ya fer trespassin'."

Mike sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought. "Look, Foxy, what happened last night…I was just following Bonnie… There were so many things happening at once, I didn't want—"

"Didn't ya hear me tha firs' time, ya swab? Get out!" He snarled; hook gesturing firmly toward the curtain.

Mike recoiled at the outburst, a tremor of fear running down his spine. Had he aroused the anger that had the others so frightened of him? Was the pirate about to lash out at him? He couldn't say, but he certainly didn't like the volatile scene that was unfolding before him. Those eyes, the total look of fury in them—he had to get away _now_ before something happened.

So, slipping hastily through the laden velvet curtains, he went back to his office to mull over his next course of action.

He plopped down into his chair like a rag-doll, blowing out air through his mouth as he ran a hand through his hair. What was he going to do? He couldn't just wait until this whole thing blew over, that would likely make everything worse! But if he tried to go back into the Cove, there was surely no way he'd walk out the same guy that went in. Who knew what that fox was capable of!?

He pressed his head back into the chair, feeling the full stress of the situation. _I gotta do something!_ he told himself. _I can't create enemies once again_. He sat like that for a moment until an idea struck him.

Maybe he could talk to Freddy! The bear seemed to be somewhat fond of him at least. And he just had this air to him that spoke of confidence and organization—professionalism almost. He knew exactly what to say at exactly the right time, and to exactly the right person. It was as if he himself ran the restaurant, no other authority outranking him. If anyone knew Foxy, it had to be him! Surely he could give him some advice.

Holding firmly to the idea, he flipped through the cameras, finally finding the bear meticulously arranging party hats in the Dining Hall. With a victorious smirk, the guard quickly set the tablet down and raced out of the room. When he arrived in the Dining Hall he was relieved to find that the cameras had not lied to him and that the animatronic was actually there. He sighed in relief.

Hearing him, Freddy looked up, smiled. "Hello, Michael. I glad to see you outside that office again. I trust your evening is going well?"

The guard twiddled his thumbs, approaching the animatronic, "Ah-h-h, kinda…" he said, and he noted how the bear set down a party hat to look at him. "You see, there's a slight… problem."

"Problem?" Freddy inquired.

"Uh, it's nothing too big, just…well…"

"What is it, Michael?" He pressed; concern evident in his tone.

"It's Foxy. He seems... upset."

The animatronic's eyes seemed to calm at that, as if he'd feared something much worse. He went back to arranging the hats. "Michael, I assure you there is nothing amiss with Foxy's behavior. Quite often he gets into these fits, and I'll admit he can be somewhat stubborn at times, but he'll get over it. The best thing you could do is leave him be until then."

Mike didn't like that answer, it felt indirect, like he was avoiding something. He shifted awkwardly, "How did he get put out-of-order?" he asked. Freddy stiffened.

He spoke without turning around: "Forgive me, Michael, but that is a topic I'd prefer not to discuss."

Puzzled, Mike shook his head. "Does it have something to do with why you guys were trying to get into my office?" he asked.

"No." he answered truthfully. "That was purely curiosity. You see, it's been many years since we've last had a night watchman—"

"It has?" Mike blurted. How long ago had that phone-guy recorded those messages?

"Before you, we had to deal with endoskeletons hiding out in that room." He shook his head at the memory. "I'll never know why, but for some reason they didn't like being put into their suits. Some of them were quite sly, too; managing to shut us out just before we could catch them. But we still managed to get them all. Unfortunately though, every single one of them broke in the process of suiting them, and I can't help but feel that that was the reason they were so resistant... They understood that the suits were too small. But rules are rules, I suppose!"

There was a part of Mike that seriously doubted those were 'endos' that were stuffed into the suits. The phone-guy had said that the animatronics might mistake the guards for endoskeletons, and judging by the last call from him, it seemed like he'd been mistaken for one. But there was one little question of doubt that hung in his mind: Why were they not trying to kill _him_ anymore?

Freddy continued: "I know how the others might come across, but I assure you they're harmless. If you saw them during the day, around the children, you'd understand. Unfortunately, they're not all that fond of adults it seems; Bonnie and Foxy especially! I'm still astounded Foxy took a liking to you so quickly."

Mike frowned, guilt returning. That's right...Foxy was mad at him. He tried to push past it with another question: "Why don't they like adults? Bonnie and Foxy, I mean." The guard asked, genuinely curious.

"Well, with Bonnie it's fairly simple—he doesn't like how apprehensive they are. For example: Parents—usually newcomers—do not like the fact that their children are able to get close to us and typically urge them stay away."

"Well, it kinda makes sense… I mean, you guys can seem pretty scary." He said. Freddy chuckled.

"I suppose you have a point. But you must understand that the children are what're most important to us. We live to entertain! Without them, we would all be very miserable. I do not want that for my family."

_Family…_ Mike pondered the word. _I guess they do seem pretty close to each other… except for Foxy_. He glanced over at Pirate Cove, observing the tilted out-of-order sign perched before it. This did not go unnoticed by Freddy.

"Put your mind at rest, Michael." He said assuringly; paw carefully coming to rest on his right shoulder. "This issue has been with us for many years. At this point, I'm afraid there's not much more we can do to redeem him."

Mike heard the hopelessness laden in the bear's tone, knew it had manifested a long time ago. Just by a simple glance at the animatronic's eyes, he could tell that there had been many past attempts made to try to help the fox, and despite the failures, the bear still considered him family.

Curiosity biting him, the guard glanced up at Freddy, "No offense, but, why is he still here? I mean if he's been down for years…"

"I refuse to let him go." He answered simply. His eyes went stone-cold as he continued. "Now I am not one for holding others under duress, but when it comes to my family… there are few boundaries I am unwilling to cross."

Mike furrowed his brow. "But the others… they don't seem to feel the same way."

"Each situation affects individuals differently. And unfortunately, it can sometimes set rifts in between even the closest of us. But the most important thing to do in situations like that is to—"

There was a loud curse and everything went dark as all power in the building left in a heavy rush, echoing to silence.

That sound, the memories were all too real to Mike as he froze dead in his spot; Freddy's pupils being the only discernible light. The bear stared across the room toward where the backstage presumably was.

"Oh, Bonnie, what did you do now?" Freddy muttered to himself, proceeding to make his way toward the room.

"Little help?" the guard asked, still in the same spot as when the lights had turned off. "I—I can't see anything."

Freddy's eyes shot back at him and the guard felt a chill run down his spine at the unnerving sight. "I'm sorry, Michael," the bear apologized. "I forgot humans can't see in the dark."

He jumped slightly as he suddenly felt a large hand grab his in the similar form of a handshake. If the animatronic noticed his fright, he ignored it, leading the guard toward the room at a steady pace. Unlike Bonnie's grasp, Freddy seemed to be conscious of his strength and therefore refrained from completely crushing his hand. Though it felt a little demeaning to be led like this—completely helpless like a child.

The journey hadn't been long before they arrived in the room. It was impossible for the guard to tell though, considering the heavy darkness. The only indication he had was when he suddenly felt Freddy's hand leave his. The bear spoke.

"We heard you shout, Bonnie. What happened?" he asked, worried.

The bunny let out an annoyed growl, "Nothing!" he spat, anger directed more at whatever had happened than at Freddy. "Just this stupid…" he trailed off.

If Mike could see the bear, he guessed he would've been shaking his head. "Well Bonnie," Freddy began, "I don't know what to tell you. You know you're not supposed to fool with the electricity."

"But I've done it before!" he shot back. "I just don't know how to get the power to my amp because this stupid power box has so many buttons!"

_Power box…_ Mike wondered._ The circuit breaker!_ _He must've overloaded it trying to find the switch for his amp and now he doesn't know how to fix it...__ Things are about to get interesting!_

He couldn't say he liked the rabbit much, seeing as though he wasn't all that kind to him the night before, not to mention the reason Foxy was angry with him! So seeing him get rebuked by Freddy...it was kind of like payback.

Freddy continued: "Why haven't you asked the day manager to keep it on, like I've told you?"

"You know they don't listen to us!" he spat resentfully.

There was a pause before he responded. "I know," Freddy agreed sadly. "But you should at least try."

_So they scare the day staff too…_ Mike thought, intrigued. _Does that mean I'm the only one who's actually talked to them?! It makes sense, seeing how…creepy_ _they look. But if the kids get close to them then at least some of the employees must too, right? Kids hurt themselves all the time so there must be someone nearby to take care of them when it happens… there has to have been some sort of interaction in a moment like that between animatronic and worker! They don't just ignore each other, do they? _

The more he thought about it, the stranger he felt…almost as if the thought angered him. Sure the animatronics seemed a bit irritable, but being ignored? If that was the case then it was no wonder why! Mike was pulled from his thoughts as the door was suddenly thrown open, giving entrance to an angry Chica. She stood in the doorway, glaring maliciously at the purple rabbit.

"Again, Bonnie?" she exclaimed, exasperatedly. "Can't you let me cook the pizzas first?"

The rabbit scoffed, "You're always cooking pizza!"

"You're always breaking the power!" She fired back.

"All right that's enough!" Freddy said sternly, instantly silencing the room. "There's nothing we can do about this right now. We'll just have to wait until the morning staff arrive."

_Darkness?_ Mike thought. _For the rest of the night!?_ The thought was outrageous. Such a simple fix it was and they were all ready to suffer because they didn't know it... There was no way he was about to accept that.

"I think I know how to fix it," Mike suddenly piped up, drawing three sets of pupils onto him.

"You do?" Freddy asked, surprised. Mike nodded.

"If it's what I think it is; probably." Not waiting for a response, he began making his way through the darkness, hands scanning the area to guide him. Once he made it to the breaker, he let his hands fall gently over the switches, getting a feel of it. He had done this before, it couldn't be that hard! "Okay," he said semi-confidently. "Uh… I just need to reset it, I think… but I can't see it."

"I thought you knew how to do this?" Bonnie said impatiently.

Mike turned to the voice beside him, swallowed when he saw those two pinprick pupils towering over him. He faltered, "Uh-h-h, well it's gonna take a few minutes since I can't see."

"Just don't make it worse," the rabbit grumbled, obviously not fond of the situation he was in. It was bad enough that he messed up in the first place, but to be shown-up by this guard?

_I hope he makes it worse_, Bonnie thought. _That way the attention will be on him and not me._

The animatronics continued to watch Mike as he tested the breaker. He fidgeted with the panel for a while before he finally found the main switch and the power was restored. The others, most notably Bonnie, were shocked. But the rabbit's surprise was quickly replaced by disdain as he noticed everyone else's expressions.

"Big deal! It's not like it's _that_ hard to figure out." He muttered, arms crossed. Chica scoffed.

"Sure, _that's_ why you've knocked out the power so many times." She remarked sarcastically. She waited to hear the bunny's response, but received only indignant mumbling. Growing bored, she left, saying to herself on the way out: "At least _someone _is helpful around here."

Now that she was gone, Freddy stared at Bonnie expectantly. "Well," he began, "is there anything you'd like to say to Mr. Schmidt?"

The rabbit glanced at the guard. "Are you gonna turn the power on to my amp?" he asked, knowing this was not what Freddy had meant. But when he noticed the band leader's gaze fail to ease up, he crumbled. "Thank you." He muttered in a voice that was just barely audible. But Mike had heard it.

"Uh, don't—don't mention it!" he said awkwardly, offering a weak smile. In a way he kind of felt sorry for the animatronic. He knew what it was like to try something seemingly simple and fail at it; knew how embarrassing it was when others found out. And he could tell just by the furtive expression on his face that Bonnie was experiencing just that.

"Well, Michael," Freddy said, drawing him from his stupor. "Thank you for your help. Perhaps now this event with not recur." He stared pointedly at Bonnie as he said this. He continued: "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to finish tidying-up the restaurant before six." He turned, strode out of the room, leaving the door open in case they wished to leave soon after.

Despite the urge to follow the bear, the guard found himself unable to move. Behind him, the rabbit sat sullenly, ears drooping slightly and arms crossed. Crazy as it was, Mike felt guilty for Bonnie's current state, like he had humiliated him before his family.

Now Mike was no fool, he knew a simple apology wouldn't fare well and would probably get him strangled. He had to make it up to him in a different way.

Turning, he strode wordlessly over to the panel, swiftly flipping a small black switch. He turned to face the animatronic who stared at him curiously. "Your amp should work now." He said, noticing the jolt of surprise that washed over the rabbit's features. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed it and walked out of the room, leaving the guard alone.

"You're welcome…" he muttered quietly to himself. Glancing down at his watch, he noticed it was just after five.

_Shit! So much for making amends with Foxy!_ He told himself. He growled, slamming his fist against the wall. What should have been an easy fix, was turning into a deep-seated problem. And now that there was no time left he'd have to wait until the next shift to try again. Despite what Freddy had told him, he didn't believe it would help, he needed to be forward with this and not wait for it to pass... But the vulpine did seem a bit dangerous.

He thought about it for a moment, realizing that if he spoke to him the next night, it would only end the same way as the last one had. Foxy wasn't going to listen to anything he had to say, he would just cut him off and tell him to leave. He tapped his forehead begging for an idea, just something that could work! Then it hit him.

_What if he could only listen?_ he thought, realizing that there was a whole margin from six to twelve where he was inactive. He clapped his hands together as he thought: _That's it! I'll just come back during the day! That way Foxy will have no choice but to listen!_

Satisfied with the plan, he began thinking of what he was going to say to the pirate.

* * *

Seeing the restaurant during the day had been quite the change. For one, Mike could actually see the true colors of the place—the scabrous brown wallpaper which bore many tears and stains, the once white tiled ceiling now faded and warped in places where water had seeped through the roof.

_This place is falling apart,_ he thought, standing in the doorway of the Dining Hall. Glancing around, he eventually spotted the three animatronics on stage, performing for a small crowd of children who were thoroughly engaged. There was a different look in the animatronic's eyes, overly focused and directed. He shrugged it off and set his sights on Pirate Cove—that was why he was here.

As he began moving his way secretly to the forsaken stage, he was stopped by a commanding voice.

"Ugly thing! Get away from my daughter!"

Mike snapped his head toward the main stage, seeing a mother angrily dragging her child away from Bonnie who had leaned off the stage to kindly let the kids hold his hands. The narrowed glare the rabbit was giving the mother's back was enough to send fearful shivers down Mike's spine. Bonnie was _angry_! And judging by the looks the rest of the band were sending her way, they weren't too pleased either.

_Freddy was right_, Mike thought, _parents do get upset!_

Just as he was about to head back to Pirate Cove, he locked eyes with Bonnie. For a brief instant, Mike could feel what Bonnie was feeling: anger. Not directed at him, but rather at the overprotective parent. It was gone in a flash, just as the rabbit looked away, back to the other children who had fallen silent at the frightening scene.

"All right, kids! Are you ready for some more songs?" He heard Freddy ask. The children all cheered, fears forgotten.

But the image of that look had been imprinted into Mike's memory and he made a mental note: _Never piss off Bonnie!_

With that, he began moving toward Pirate Cove.

The darkness of the stage caught him off-guard and he had to wait for his eyes to adjust. He let the sounds of upbeat music and conversing voices serenade him until he was ready to approach the inactive animatronic.

"Uh-h-h, hey Foxy." He whispered, being careful not to get himself caught. "Look, I know you're mad at me…but I just wanted to say I'm sorry." He paused a moment as he sighed. "If it's any consolation I got you this," he pulled a small little square out of his pocket, pulled off the plastic wrap and quickly unraveled a rather large white flag, skull and crossbones imprinted in black in the center. He held it before the pirate, hoping he could still somehow see in this state.

"I would've gotten you gold doubloons, but… y'know they're kinda hard to find nowadays. But still, a pirate needs a flag, right?" he asked, hopeful. Silence fell over them as Mike chuckled bitterly to himself.

_Who am I kidding?_ He thought. _He can't hear a damn thing I say._

Standing he folded the flag up slightly, carried it over to a dark chest where Foxy stored his props in. He tucked it neatly on the surface so that Foxy could still find it, but not too obvious that staff might come across it and throw it out.

He stopped once more beside the slouched vulpine, said: "Y'know, I thought pirates were so cool when I was a kid... And, believe it or not, I think you're pretty cool too..." He gave a sad smile before continuing, "Guess I'll see you tonight."

Without even a glance back, he strode out of the Cove and left the restaurant, praying that everything would be all right now. But he failed to notice the man sitting behind the desk who had happened to see him emerge from Pirate Cove and walk out of the building. He picked up the phone and quickly dialed a number.

* * *

**Author's Note: Well, once again this chapter took way longer than I had intended. But no worries! I know exact what to write for the next chapter and it should be out in the next few days or slightly more. Thanks to all of you who've put up with me and my horribly slow updates, you all are awesome! **

**You can expect the next chapters to be pretty Foxy-centric, so Foxy fans out there**—**get hyped!**


	6. It's All Downhill

Toy Bonnie stood in his place on stage, face blank as he stared, enraptured at the lifeless carousel that sat in the center of the game area. It was compelling, this ancient merry-go-round, and he stared at it replaying the memories of its once-operational days. It was perplexing to try to understand why people had suddenly stopped coming to this place, they had been doing so well! Perhaps they just weren't entertaining enough... Still he remembered those old days with clarity, especially the carousel. He would have stared at it for hours, but Balloon Boy shattered his trance.

"Hello?" the short animatronic inquired, gazing up at the blue rabbit.

Bonnie glanced down, surprised to see the other animatronic standing there. "Oh, hey BB!" He greeted, but his voice was still caught in whatever memory he'd be reliving. "Need help with something?"

The animatronic shook his head. "Marionette wanted me to tell you something." This caught the rabbit's interest.

"Oh yeah? What's that?" he asked.

"He wants to know if you're finally gonna come off stage." His eyes lit up as he continued. "You really should! I could make you a balloon and we could—"

"Calm down, BB." He ordered softly. "I'm not sure I'm ready... for that yet." He glanced down as he said this, examining his hands, how the fine plastic had worn and broke in places. It had been so long since last anyone had visited them, and naturally their bodies had begun to age and weaken. Now Toy Bonnie had never been a pessimist, but after experiencing damage to his own body and realizing there was nobody around anymore to fix it, he had quarantined himself to the show stage, wanting to preserve himself and not end up like Toy Foxy, whom was now referred to as the Mangle. Even Toy Chica had lost her beak and both eyes!

Balloon Boy just frowned. "Okay." He pouted, going to storm off but stopped abruptly and turned back to face him, eyes pleading. But Bonnie was determined.

"The answer's still no, BB. I'm sorry, but I'm not ready yet." Once the short animatronic left, he let out an imitated sigh from lack of lungs. Despite how badly he did want to leave the stage, he just couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't risk damaging himself further. Maybe one day, if someone came back to fix them, he'd finally find the courage... But honestly, if nobody had come in the twenty years they'd been down, why would they come within the next twenty?

He sighed again, not liking these hopeless thoughts, and began humming a soft melody that used to reverberate off these once-lively walls. Oh, how he missed the children...

* * *

The Marionette rose from his box that evening as he heard a familiar melody coming from the stage. Before he had even emerged, he knew the voice to belong to Bonnie. But it wasn't the song in particular that aroused his concern so much as it was the tone—crestfallen and dispirited. It wasn't a surprising sound to hear—the sadness. Things had been stagnant around the place for years, now, and as a result, the hopelessness took its toll on the Toys. There was a time when they would occupy themselves with chores, but it hadn't lasted too long, before they had begun questioning him whether or not it was even worth it since there were no people to clean up after. He had tried to keep hope alive in them, not having the heart to tell them that the pizzeria had closed down. But they weren't naive. He assumed they had figured it out after about a year. And it had only gotten worse from there.

Footfalls drew him from his reverie, he turned noticing Balloon Boy shambling toward him, a disappointed look on his face.

"I take it, the answer was 'no'," He asked the animatronic.

BB just nodded, too upset to speak.

Out of all the animatronics, Balloon Boy was the only one who seemed cheerful. Despite the fact that he could be vexing at times, his upbeat attitude was probably the only thing that kept Marion going. And he had to make sure it never faded like it had with the others. "It's not your fault, BB." the Puppet comforted. "You know he's not upset with you, he cares for you very much as do the rest of us."

"But I want him to come down from the stage..." he pouted.

"We all do, BB. And he knows that. What's important to remember, however, is that he has to make his own decisions. You can't force him to do anything he doesn't want to."

"But..." he struggled for words. "He's sad."

At this the Marionette glanced up to look at the rabbit on the stage. It was true; the rabbit was sad. But more than that, he was scared. He and Mangle had been good friends in the restaurant's operational days and seeing the way the children would dismantle her, how they would put her back together in flawed, erroneous ways... Seeing her fear and dismay at her situation filled him with the same. And it wasn't just Bonnie that had struggles, but all the others as well. Long ago Chica had experience a short in her optics and virtually lost all depth-perception. And Freddy had taken damage to one of his legs when someone knocked him from the stage on the last day of operation.

It was a struggle, keeping them going, but the Puppet felt obligated to do it.

Looking back at BB he lifted the animatronic's chin up to meet his gaze. "I'll tell you what, BB," he said, "why don't we give Bonnie a surprise?"

"Surprise!?" he exclaimed, all past forlorn gone. "I love surprises!" the Puppet quickly shushed him.

"We can't let him know what we're doing, okay?" he held his voice barely above a whisper, not wanting the blue rabbit to accidentally overhear them. BB nodded vigorously.

"He'll be happy, right?"

"Very much," he confirmed with a warm smile. "Now go find Chica, Freddy, and Mangle. We're going to need their help."

* * *

The day went by with relative ease for the animatronics, having to perform five shows in total—making it the most successful day for Fazbear's in over two months. The sudden spike in customers was an unexplained happenstance, but the animatronics didn't care. Performing for children was their passion.

So as day turned into night and the animatronics came to life, they had plenty to say, Bonnie speaking first.

"What a day!" he exclaimed. "_Five shows! _Those children were so happy!"

Freddy smiled, "Indeed. We were quite lucky to have a day like this," he said. Chica laughed.

"You guys see Mike?" she asked humorously, recalling the earlier appearance of the guard. "What the heck he was doing here? Doesn't he sleep or something during the day?"

Freddy nodded but made no comment. After having seen the guard wander into Pirate Cove, he had known exactly his purpose for visiting. Of course, that meant he hadn't listened to their conversation the previous night…

After a moment of silence passed, Bonnie broke the air with a sudden question. "Speaking of Mike, shouldn't he be here by now?" he asked, slightly annoyed by the guard's unprofessionalism.

Freddy narrowed his eyes in consideration. Their servos freed up a midnight, and that was when Mike's shift started. They were awake now, but the guard wasn't anywhere to be seen. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but suddenly the front doors slammed open, a panting man barreling through.

The three animatronics all stared at him oddly, but before any of them could speak, Mike held up a hand.

"I'm late, I know." He said dryly. "I overslept."

Setting his keys on the front desk he began searching his pockets for his badge. Once he found it he clipped it on over his right breast, pausing when he noticed the animatronic's expectant stares.

"What?" he questioned, slightly unnerved by the attention.

"Well are ya gonna tell us or just keep us in suspense?" Chica asked, brow arched.

"Tell you what?" Mike asked. He wasn't exactly pleased to under the scrutiny of large metal animals, just after arriving late to his job. It made him feel one step behind everything.

The chicken crossed her arms at his response, "You were here earlier today. Why?"

Mike sighed before rolling his eyes. Couldn't he just be done with that? Why did they have to bring it up and put him on the spot like this? He waved it off as discreetly as he could. "I was just dropping something off." There. He wasn't exactly lying to them, right? He did give something to the pirate fox after all.

But the animatronics weren't fooled. Not even for a second. Bonnie gaze turned to suspicion.

"In Pirate Cove?" he added doubtfully.

The guard ran a hand through his hair out of frustration. "Why am I under interrogation here?" he demanded. "I came in, I dropped something off—in Pirate Cove—and I left. What's the big deal?"

"Wh—" the rabbit began, but was cut off by a large brown paw that grabbed his shoulder.

"How about we let Mr. Schmidt here, get set up. He has a job to do just like the rest of us." Freddy said calmly, but his eyes staring knowingly into the guard's.

Both Bonnie and Chica reluctantly nodded and dispersed; the chicken heading for the kitchen and the rabbit, the stage. Mike sighed in relief.

"Thank you!" he said to the bear who smiled warmly in return.

"Of course!" he responded. "Your business is your business. You don't have to share it if you wish not to. The others mean no harm by it, they're just curious."

Mike nodded silently. And he notice something in the bear's eyes—a silent understanding. It was as if he knew the guard's secret and was keeping it for him. It was…strange… and gratifying. He felt compelled to speak.

"Has he…" he said, glancing suggestively at Pirate Cove. Freddy smiled again.

"I'm sure whatever it is you did will be treated with proper appreciation." He said. He turned to leave, but Mike stopped him.

"Wait!" he said. "So you know what it is, then?"

"Michael, I already told you: your business is your business." He turned and left without another word.

The guard watched his retreating back until it disappeared behind the kitchen door. He couldn't help but feel puzzled by the bear's response. Why did he not want to answer his question? He seemed like he knew what had happened in Pirate Cove, so why was he acting like he didn't? Had the guard not been clear enough with his hints?

Despite how puzzling it was, Mike figured it was unimportant at the moment. Now, he was free to worry about his next task: Foxy.

As he apprehensively swung open the curtains to the Cove, he was initially met with blackness. But as he stepped in further he felt a hand and hook grab hold of his shoulders tightly, the hook pinching the skin at its tip. One pinprick eye stared into his and he felt his blood run cold in fear for his own life. This was it, he was going to die here; brutally mutilated into an unidentifiable heap. The thought was so overwhelming that he couldn't help the whimpers that slipped through his lips. But the Pirate's voice contrasted the grim scene that he assumed was unfolding.

"Ye be a thou'ful one, matey!" he said, virtually shaking the guard in excitement. "After all this time bein' ou' o' commissi'n, Cap'n Foxy is still r'membered!"

Mike peaked an eye open, "What?" he asked weakly.

"Why yer gif' warms me heart, lad. It's been so long since anyone be givin' me somethin'."

So did this mean he wasn't going to be murdered? Mike nearly deflated with relief, only shifting slightly from the pain in his right shoulder. "Uh… Foxy do you mind? Your hook's kinda sharp." He tried to be as polite as he could, not wanting to shatter this fragile moment by angering the pirate.

"O'course lad!" he said, releasing his grasp on the guard. He was instantly drawn to the next subject as he wandered over to a mid-sized wooden chest that sat in the far corner of the Cove.

"This here flag'll fly fine on me ship!" the fox said, facing Mike but speaking to the flag. "How'd ye kno' I be needin' one o' these?"

Mike blinked in surprise. He didn't know the animatronic was in need of a flag, he just guessed. He scrambled for words: "Oh, uh… I didn't see a flag around here, so I just assumed you, uh, needed one." He paused as another thought arose. "So uh… you heard all that I said earlier?" he asked.

Foxy turn to face him, mouth closed in a serious expression. "I heard ya, matey." He confirmed, voice losing some of its excitement. This made Mike nervous.

"So… are you, y'know… okay?"

"Aye, I be quiet fine, lad."

"…And you're not still mad at me?" Mike felt his throat dry up as he asked this.

The fox paused. "Why, woul' I be?" he asked, confused. "Ye gave me such a nice gif', ya did!"

"I know, but… you were upset the other day—"

"Argh, tha' be in tha past! I fergive ye."

Mike wanted to feel happy, but he wasn't sure how to feel about this revelation. Sure the pirate had forgiven him, but it all seemed to happen so…easily. Too easily, almost. It seemed like deadly betrayal had been forgotten over something as simple as a five dollar flag. It made him wonder just how stable the fox's AI was... Perhaps he'd look into it later. Right now though, he just wanted to relax.

* * *

Mike scrolled through his security tablet as he sat in the main dining hall. He checked each room, noting the locations of each animatronic. Bonnie was Backstage doing something with his guitar, Freddy was outside the bathrooms, arranging hangings on the wall, and Foxy was in his Cove still, voice carrying along a cheerful tune. The only one he couldn't find was Chica... A loud metal clank caused him to nearly throw the thing in surprise. He looked up to see the animatronic chicken staring down at him, smirk on her beak. There was a pizza sitting on the table in front of him, freshly steaming from the oven.

"Jumpy, I see." She remarked with a certain satisfaction.

Seeing that there was no real danger, Mike relaxed. "Did you need something?" he asked resuming his fearless facade. Chica scowled.

"You looked hungry, so I thought I'd give you something to eat." She said, matter-of-factly.

Mike leaned forward to examine the pizza. It looked all right—pretty good, actually. But it couldn't have been that simple. Chica wasn't the type to just be nice like this.

Narrowing his eyes, he looked at the bird, "Let me guess: you put poison in this?"

Chica huffed indignantly, "No, I didn't, for the record. And if you're gonna be an idiot about it, then I'll just take it back to the kitchen." She angrily grabbed the tray and began heading back for the kitchen. Mike sighed.

"Come back," he said. The animatronic stopped to glare at him. He continued: "I'm sorry, okay? It's just… Bring it back, I'll eat it."

Chica held the glare for another moment before doing as he asked. She watched as he picked up a piece, hesitating as he held it just before his mouth. As he bit into it, she saw his eyes widen, and she felt that smug feeling of victory deep within as she knew exactly what was coming next.

"Holy shit!" he said after swallowing. "This is seriously amazing!" he took another bite, relishing the sublime flavor. "How the hell did you learn to make pizza like this!? I mean, it's not soupy or anything!"

"I've done it for years," she said offhandedly.

Mike finished the slice, went for the next, "You could make a guy fat with this!" he said. Chica made a _pfft_ sound.

"Good to know," she said sarcastically.

Just as he began eating away at the next slice, Foxy sauntered up behind him.

"Ahoy!" he said. "Wha' be all this shoutin' fer?"

Both guard and animatronic turned to see the pirate curiously staring at them. Mike spoke around a mouth full of food.

"Hey Foxy." He said. "Just trying this amazing pizza is all."

"Pizza, eh?" he said, processor whirring in thought. "Why tha' be tha fine grub me mateys woul' talk abou'!" He had to take their word for it because he couldn't actually eat for himself… he missed those days with his crew.

"Say Foxy," Mike said, turning now to face the crimson animatronic, "what exactly did you do when you were a part of the show?"

The vulpine looked shocked by the question, his expression curving into a toothy grin. "Why I woul' take me mateys on a'ventures all across tha seas! We'd search fer treasure in tha deepes' caves, figh' off tha migh'y kraken! Once me hearties 'n I were faced agains' tha cow'rdly bilge-rat, Blackbeard. Why we—"

Suddenly Chica rose from her spot, said: "Great as this talk is, I think I'm gonna get back to the kitchen. Don't kill yourself with that pizza."

Mike watched her go, knowing that it was Foxy's presence that drove her away. It wasn't that she was frightened of him; so much as it was that she just found the pirate boring. At least that's what it seemed to be anyway.

Turning back to the animatronic, Mike noticed the fox staring off curiously across the room. The sight was somewhat disconcerting to the guard as he recognized that look to be one of alert.

"What is it, Foxy?" he asked. And before the pirate could respond, a low metallic clang could be heard as if someone was trying the front doors.

Mike felt his heart accelerate, "Shit!" he whispered, turning to Foxy. "Get back to your Cove!" he ordered. He didn't wait for the fox's response before jolting back for the security room and desperately searching for a weapon to use. Finding nothing, he settled on the small desk fan, yanking the cord out of the wall and returning back to the Dining Hall where he ran into both Bonnie and Freddy who were simultaneously entering the room.

"What's going on?" Freddy asked, alarmed. Bonnie just stared incredulously at the object in the guard's hands.

"Is that a fan?" he asked.

Mike shushed them with a finger, gesturing for them to get on the stage. He then slithered up against the wall to peek out the front windows. He swallowed in a dry throat, fingers constricting the neck of the fan. He had never been in a situation like this before, being faced by an intruder, so naturally, everything was left to chance. He recalled a brief description given by the manager of what to do in this type of situation. He had said to just flash his badge and scare them off, but deep down Mike had a feeling that that wouldn't quite work out in his benefit. So he played the scene out in his head.

_When they come through that door I'll just crack them over the head as hard as I can._ He told himself._ This thing has to be strong enough to do some damage, it's metal!_

"Michael, is there something we should know about?" Freddy asked, voice low. Naturally seeing the guard's high alertness made him feel the same.

Before he had the chance to respond, there was a click, loud and resounding, and the front door flew open.

Mike clenched his teeth as he prepared to rush the intruder, but as he whirled around the corner, he froze, seeing a tired-looking man dressed in a casual t-shirt and blue jeans. His arms were up prepared to defend himself.

"The hell are you doing!?" the man asked, torn somewhere between alarm and annoyance.

Mike remained in his readied pose, brandishing the small fan as if it were a sledgehammer. "Who are you?" he demanded, his stride slightly broken from the unexpected appearance of man. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm the Head of Security, and I came by because I needed to talk to you," the man replied matter-of-factly. "Is that a _fan_?"

Mike became aware of the object in his hands, quickly tossed it into the Dining Hall. Veiling his embarrassment, he plummeted onto the next question: "What did you need to talk about?"

"This'll only take a moment..."

Mike glanced back into the dining hall uncertainly, "Uh-h-h, sure, I guess." What was the meaning of this? Why was this guy here now? Did he know the animatronics moved around at night?

The man folded his hands before he began, "I'm gonna cut right to the chase here, I saw you enter Pirate Cove during the day." He held his hand up as Mike began to protest. "Listen to me." he said, tone solemn, "I'm not here to accuse you of anything, but I need to ask: Did you alter his AI in any way?"

Mike furrowed his brow at the specific question. "Wha—no. I'm just the night guard. I don't know that stuff."

The man narrowed his eyes as he glared him up and down in suspicion. "Well, whatever you did, know that that animatronic is bound by law to remain in disrepair."

"Bound by law? Why?"

The man hesitated before he began, "There was an incident back in 1987... they never told you, did they?"

"Tell me what? What happened?" He was starting to get annoyed by the man's indirectness.

"It was during a party... the animatronic suddenly turned hostile and bit the head of a little girl, I believe her name began with an 'S'. Anyway, the girl ended up losing part of her brain. He also wounded a few other patrons, but none as extreme as the girl."

Mike stood stunned to silence by the revelation. Foxy did that... to a child? He felt ill; he figured the pirate had hurt someone in the past, but to do something so grotesque... and to a child? The very ones they adored most? He wanted to run out those front doors and never come back.

"Before I go," the man said, "I must make sure you understand something." He made sure the guard was listening before he continued. "Do not go near that animatronic. If you are caught doing that again, you will be fired, understand?"

Mike nodded wordlessly.

"Say it."

Mike looked up at him, "I understand."

"Good." He turned facing the doors, "This is _not_ how I wanted to spend my night off. Consider yourself lucky that it was me who caught you." Without another word and strode out into the night.

Mike just stood there for awhile, feeling like he'd just been through a natural disaster. Just now he was learning of this horrifying event, and from some guy he didn't even know! He felt betrayed. Betrayed that Freddy had never told him. The bear hadn't even given him the slightest warning. Anything could've have happened to him!

Slowly, Mike built up the strength to move and re-entered the dining hall. He was mad and the only thing he wanted to do was just get to his office and wait there until six.

"Who was that?" Bonnie demanded.

Mike gritted his teeth, really not wanting to talk to them right now. "Uh-h-h, just a visitor." He resumed his gait, pace quickening slightly. Freddy noticed.

"Is everything all right?" he asked.

"Yep. Fine." he responded, not bothering to turn and meet the bear's gaze.

Freddy watched him disappear into the office, watching the door close solidly behind. He exchanged a puzzled glance with Bonnie. Something was obviously wrong with the guard and he suspected it wasn't just a visitor he had talked to. He turned to Bonnie.

"Wait here," he ordered.

* * *

Mike jumped when a knock sounded at the left window, frowned when he noticed the bear standing there. Why couldn't he just be left alone!?

"Michael? Would you mind letting me in? I want to talk to you."

The guard didn't answer right away, considering things in his head. The bear obviously wanted to talk about the 'visitor' and Mike didn't feel able enough to maintain the poker-face to lie about it. But he knew Freddy hadn't wanted to discuss this incident with Foxy before. Maybe now would be different; now that he knew what the incident was.

"Michael, please open the door. We've established there's nothing to fear from us."

The guard let out a long sigh as his hand reached for the button. He felt alarmed when the bear entered and closed the door behind him swallowing as the animatronic moved directly in front of him. Those menacing eyes bore down on him in the encumbering silence, causing him to shrink down in his chair.

Finally he spoke: "Are you going to tell me what's bothering you?" he asked.

"Whaddya mean? Nothing's bothering—"

"Stop."

Mike felt his lips shrivel up to a pathetic pucker at the sheer power of the word. Never before had he heard such a peremptory command; there was nothing he could've done to prevent his response. No amount of strength, nothing.

"I know you're troubled by something," Freddy said, "and for the safety of my family, I need you to tell me what that person said."

The tone said everything: the bear would not be deterred. As Mike took a deep breath, he realized he was shaking. He ignored it though as he muttered: "1987."

Freddy's face went expressionless before turning dark. "Who did you talk to?"

Mike shrugged. "I don't know, he didn't give me a name. Said he's Head of Security here though."

Silence ensued as Freddy stood deep in thought. Mike just stared worriedly at him, fearing the bear's unheard thoughts. Would he attack? Would he lose his temper and screech at him? He needed to know, the silence was too much! After a moment the animatronic spoke.

"So, you know then?" he asked, grimly.

"About the incident?" he nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, he told me... the little girl..."

"Her name was Sophia." Freddy said, memory clear in his eyes. "She was a frequent visitor, only nine..." he paused as a struggle seemed to come over him, "Foxy was her favorite."

Mike winced at the last part. "He was her favorite?" he thought aloud.

"She would always head straight to Pirate Cove when she'd come. She loved all the tales he would tell and even gave him a little Pirate ship which he still has to this very day."

He shook his head, "Why did he do it?"

Freddy sighed. "I wish I knew... He was hit on the head pretty hard by patrons trying to help the girl. If I hadn't intervened, they would have killed him. But they still managed to damage his AI."

Mike let the information sink in. It all made sense now, why the pirate seemed so unstable. His AI had been damaged. It also was most likely the reason for his other tears and loose joints. It was...

"Michael, I need to get one thing clear:" the bear's eyes went hard as stone as he stared at the guard, "Do not mention this to Foxy or the others. I know this information might seem overwhelming, and if you wish to speak more about it, you can speak to me. I truly hope you can see through all of this and—"

"All this time, you knew." Mike interrupted, face wide in disbelief. Freddy shook his head.

"I know this may—"

"All this time I've been around him, and you never told me how dangerous he was!?" he shouted. "That at any moment I could've been _killed_!?"

"Michael, please lower your voice."

"No, I'm not going lower my voice! You were going to let me get killed! I thought you guys actually liked me, but now I see it. You were just using me to keep Foxy away from you. That's it isn't it? You guys don't give a _shit_ about me! Oh, but you can pretend just so long as you keep that murdering psychopath pleased."

The blow came so fast, Mike hadn't even realized he'd been hit 'til he was on the floor. Freddy had struck him across the face with locomotive force, features seething with anger. He had lost control, senses falling under the persuasion of words. He could take many things, but such an insult to his family? It felt as if the guard had physically attacked the fox and he intervened. Mike on the other hand, was just dazed, eyes rolling from the punch. Lucky for him, the bear hadn't hit as hard as he could've.

The animatronic suddenly regained his senses as he viewed Mike lying there, on the cold concrete floor, his left cheek red and bloodied. He struggled for words. "I...I'm sorry, I...I don't know what came over me." His voice was weak with horror at his own actions.

Mike just groaned in pain, not hearing a word the animatronic said. And not a moment later he passed out.

* * *

**Author's Note: Well, things are happening now. I know this took more than a few days, but I got hit by writer's block in the middle of writing this. Anyway, so... betcha didn't expect to see the Toys! If you did, well... congratulations, I don't have any prizes for ya. **

**On a more serious note, I want to hear your theories on what roles the Toys'll be playing in this story. I'll give ya a hint: They're important.**

**Fredy freak: That idea's not bad. As you can see, what happened here was somewhat similar.**

**Also, I know I haven't been responding to reviews, and I intend to PM everyone who does from now on (if you're logged in, that is).**

**See ya next time!**


	7. Dark, Dank, and Desolate

**Update! 7/21/15: Don't be alarmed if you're not seeing a new chapter (there isn't one yet), I just fixed up a few errors I found back in the earlier chapters and re-posted them. It had been bothering me for awhile now and I couldn't resist any longer (OCD I guess). Sorry if I got your hopes up. If it makes you feel better, the next chapter is about two or three days to completion, and all is going well with it.**

* * *

Mike awoke to the sound of voices, distant and indiscernible. He lacked the strength to open his eyes, feeling the heaviness of sleep still pulling at them. His mind and body felt sluggish for some reason, and there was a faint weighted pain settled within the entire left side of his face. He could tell the pain was there, but couldn't bring his mind to focus on it. He tried to move, sensing the hardness of concrete beneath him.

_Where am I? _he wondered.

The air felt strangely cool, if not a bit damp, and he could sense the encasement of a blanket around him. Again he heard the voices speak, but this time he could understand them.

"Man, you really did a number on him, Freddy!"

Freddy… that name was familiar. He searched the depths of him memory to try to put a face to the name but everything was foggy.

"Bonnie, please," a voice, male, berated, "this is serious."

Bonnie...he recognized that name too! Frustrated, he forced his eyes open; found that only his right would respond. He felt like he should've been more alarmed, but simply lacked the will to be. The instant his vision cleared from the flooding light, he saw a purple face, hovering much too closely over his. It moved back slightly as it made eye-contact with him.

"He's awake." The rabbit said flatly, magenta eyes still glued to the guard as if there was something wildly entertaining about him. The animatronic was pushed to the side as a new face—a bear—came into view. His eyes were wide worry.

"Michael, how are you feeling? Is there anything you need?"

The guard didn't immediately answer the question, instead taking in his surroundings. Directly above him were what appeared to be grated stairs, and through them he could see a single wall light close to a ceiling high above. The place was odd and unfamiliar to the guard and he just assumed it was part of a dream he happened to be partially aware of. But still the question came through his heavy lips.

"Where am I?" he muttered softly.

"You're in the in the basement of the restaurant." Freddy informed. When he saw the confused look on the guard's face he continued: "Do you not recall what happened?"

Mike weakly shook his head. Basement? No, this crazy talking-bear was wrong, there were no basements where he worked... joke's on him; silly, silly bear.

"You were hit in the face." He admitted, guiltily. "You passed out immediately after. We had to bring you down here to prevent the day staff from discovering you… this might come across as somewhat of a shock, but you slept through the entire day. I figured you would though, because of the medication we gave you. Luckily we've witnessed enough first aid over the years to know exactly what to give you."

Mike blinked slowly at the animatronic's words, said: "That's good." It came out slurred from the narcotic. Bonnie snickered.

"I don't think he got a single word of that." he said, amused.

Freddy imitated a sigh. "Michael, do you understand what I'm saying?" he asked, making his voice as clear as possible.

The guard just stared through half-lidded eyes. "What?" he asked after a long moment.

Freddy nodded slowly, receiving all the information necessary to draw his conclusion. The guard was _out_ of it! And it was likely everything he'd just said had slipped in one ear and instantly out the other. Explaining himself now would be a fruitless endeavor. He'd just have to wait until the drug wore off more and the boy regained his faculties. But he felt worry begin to arise deep within him. The guard had been here, in this basement, for nearly twenty-four hours. Now he had confidence that the drug he administered to Mike would not harm him in the quantity given, but he had not anticipated the effects to last this long. He just hoped that it would wear off within the next few hours before their servos locked up at six. The last thing he wanted was for the guard to come out of his comatose in the middle of the business day and cause a scene out of confusion. Management would not be pleased.

Glancing down at the guard he saw that his eyes were closed once again, most likely sleeping. He turned to Bonnie. "Stay here with him." he ordered. "I'm going to make him something to eat. I'm sure he's hungry after having gone an entire day without anything." He stopped as he began climbing the stairs. "If he wakes before I return, make sure he doesn't fall back asleep. We need to talk to him before the restaurant opens." And before the rabbit could even respond, Freddy was gone, closing the door at the top of the stairs with a solid thump.

The bear was confident in his decision to leave Bonnie with the guard. He thought: _As hard as I know Bonnie will press him, Mike won't tell. He's stubborn, but strong-willed._

* * *

When Mike awoke the second time, it was with much more clarity. And Pain.

He winced as he went to sit up. His face felt like it had been hit by a freight train, pain throbbing throughout the entire side. He also couldn't open the eye on that side, it refusing to so much as budge. Acting on impulse, he reached up to touch the side of his face, instantly hissing when it exploded in pain.

The response was enough to draw Bonnie's attention to the guard and he smirked a bit. "So you can feel it now, right?" he asked, chuckling as the guard nearly jumped in surprise. "You must've done something really bad to get Mr. Calm-and-Collected to hit ya." He said, referring to Freddy. He scooted closer, eyes intense with curiosity: "So what _did_ you do?"

Mike just stared at the bunny overwhelmed by his barrage of questions. The inquiries had instantly triggered two things in his sluggish mind—one: the memories of what had happened between him and Freddy the night before. Two: The others didn't know that he knew about the Bite. And Freddy had made it absolutely clear that he was to tell no one about what had happened. And God _knows_ he wasn't going to cross the bear in any way, shape, or form. He wouldn't even consider it.

Staring into Bonnie's eager eyes, Mike tried to think of a different response. What could he say to this rabbit that would satisfy him? He obviously wasn't stupid, there's no way he was going to believe it was an accident. He had to think harder than that, deeper. It was in that moment that he realized honesty might very well be the best choice.

"I don't want to talk about it," he said, putting it as flat as he could so that the rabbit wouldn't question him further. It failed.

"Oh, come on!" he begged. "You can't at least give me a hint or something?"

Mike shook his head firmly, "I said I don't want to talk about it." There, now the rabbit should know that this debate was over. But Bonnie gave a sly smirk.

"You're embarrassed," he surmised, amusement growing at the guard's expression. "That's it, isn't it?"

Mike rolled his uninjured eye, growing irritated by the rabbit's persistence. "So what, are you here to torture me, then? To throw salt into my wounds?" he didn't mean to come across so bitter, but he just wanted the rabbit the stop questioning him.

Bonnie's amusement remained though, smirk unwavering. "If that's what it takes for you to give up the details." He said.

The guard stared at him for a second before saying: "Fine. You _really_ want to know what happened?" When he saw the rabbit nod vigorously, he grinned tauntingly. "Freddy hit me."

Bonnie narrowed his eyes at the guard's deliberately vague answer, not fond of being led-on. He was _going_ to find out what had happened, even if it meant he'd have to pester the guard nonstop every night.

"Why do you want to find out so bad anyway?" Mike suddenly asked, shifting in his makeshift 'bed'. "It was nothing interesting. I can barely remember what happened anyway." He lied. "Why don't you ask Freddy?"

The animatronic's tone came out in thin resentment. "Because he says it's 'not important'."

"Well maybe that's because it actually isn't." Mike offered, hoping to curb the rabbit's curiosity. Again, it was in vain.

"I know it had something to do with that guy you were talking to. You know, the one you were ready to beat with that fan? You came back upset and that's when Freddy went to talk to you, alone." He regretted that last part. His eyes lit up as a thought entered his mind. "Did you attack him!? Did you _attack Freddy!?_" That had to be it! Why else would the normally docile bear fight other than in self-defense?

The guard sighed, "I didn't attack him. And it wasn't because of anyone I talked to."

Bonnie just stared at him a moment, processor whirring in an attempt to come up with another solution. After a long moment, he crumbled. "Why can't you just tell me?" he pleaded. "No one else'll find out, I promise!"

Mike arched a brow. "Not even Chica?"

"...Okay maybe her, but that's it!"

Mike pursed his lips as if in contemplation, but quickly shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I still don't want to talk about it." Bonnie groaned in frustration.

"You're a tougher than I thought." he complimented dryly. "But you'll still fold eventually."

_What is it with him?_ Bonnie wondered._ Why's he trying so hard to keep this secret from me? And Freddy won't tell either (even though that's kinda to be expected from him)! Still you don't just nail someone in the face and both then go about casually as if nothing even happened... They must not want me to know something... It better not be about me!_

Narrowing his eyes at the guard, Bonnie scrutinized him, glancing at him from head to toe in observation. _He's a stubborn one, but I think I can draw the answer out of him eventually. _

Mike furrowed his brow at the animatronic, feeling uncomfortable under his intense gaze. He tried to divert the feeling by asking: "So, how bad does it look? My face, I mean." This was easy to ask because he was genuinely curious and also a bit reluctant if the pain was any indication.

The rabbit stood still as if he hadn't heard the question, but chuckled after a moment. "Well I don't think your face is supposed to be that big."

Mike immediately understood what the rabbit meant, having assumed the same thing himself. His face was swollen from his cheekbone to his eye. It probably looked horrible, he _was_ hit by a metal fist after all. Still the image his mind portrayed based on the way his face felt made him feel slightly self-conscious, and coupled with the knowledge of how it got that way just made it worse. He sighed, carefully rubbing the bloated skin.

"I figured it was that bad." he said, lying back as another question entered his head. "How long have I been out?"

"Almost twenty-four hours," he said offhandedly. "We put ya down here so that no one would see you and your face."

Mike nodded, ignoring the rabbit's obvious insult as he took in his surroundings once again. He was never aware that there had been a basement to this place, he assumed it was all one level. But you'd think he'd have stumbled upon a mysterious door or something during one of his many ventures throughout the establishment. But he could recall no such door.

"How did you get down here?" he asked the rabbit.

"What?" he asked, staring at the guard as if he'd grown a second head. Mike elaborated.

"This is part of the building isn't it? How come I've never seen it before?"

Now Bonnie understood. He pointed directly above him. "See these stairs?" he asked. "The workers don't want us wandering down here in case we fall or can't get back up. Said we can't 'properly traverse stairs'." His voice took on a tone crude mimicry as he recited the quote. He wasn't too fond of some of the staff.

"Anyway," he continued, "the door down to here is through the Backstage room with all the spare heads. Its painted the same color as the walls. They did it because they think it'll trick us into thinking its the wall, like were stupid or something."

"Yeah..." Mike forced a laugh, trying to ignore the fact that it had actually fooled him. "Sounds more like they're the dumb ones."

"_Thank_ you!" Bonnie exclaimed gratefully. "No body else seemed to even care about it! It's like—" there was a click and the door at the top of the stairs was thrown open, followed by a boisterous, intrusive voice.

"Argh! Mike? Ye down here, boyo?" Foxy's voice boomed down.

Bonnie's eyes near rolled back into his head as he let out a whispered sigh. "You've got to be kidding..." he breathed exasperatedly.

Suddenly Mike felt dread consume him as he saw the pirate's head curiously leaning over the railing at a total disregard for the large plummet should he fall off the side. There was something clenched in his good hand. "Ahoy! Thar be me matey!" He exclaimed, racing down the stair case with lightning speed.

Mike remembered clearly what he'd learned about the fox the night before, about the Bite, and he really didn't want to be around the animatronic, especially in this debilitated state. And for the first time since he'd started this job, he prayed that Bonnie would stay with him. Perhaps the fox would keep his distance with the bunny close by.

The moment the swashbuckler set foot on the basement floor he tilted his head at them staring directly at the guard with a strange glimmer in his metallic eyes. Without a word, he walked up to them, crouching beside the injured guard. And Mike's heart nearly stopped as Foxy's face drew very close to his, razor teeth mere centimeters from him. He tried his best not to betray his fear of the animatronic, but he jumped when a cold finger carefully prodded his injured cheek.

"Foxy, give him some space." Bonnie said. And Mike nearly deflated in relief as the crimson animatronic complied. He'd never been more grateful of the rabbit!

As Foxy leaned back, a puzzled expression overtook his face. "Ye look like ye've been ta Davey Jones' Locker 'n back! Wha' in blazes happened to ya, lad?"

Mike blinked, trying to still the savage beating of his heart. "I was hit." he said, leave out as much detail as he could. He didn't want another curious animatronic patting him down for answers. Bonnie was enough as it was.

"Did ya win?"

Mike blinked in confusion, "What?" he asked.

"Tha fight, did ya win?" he repeated, obviously eager for the answer. Mike shook his head.

"It wasn't a fight, it was an accident." Foxy nodded pushing his jaw shut in understanding.

"Ye lost, didn't ya?"

"Wha—_no!_ It wasn't a fight—"

Foxy held up a hand to stop his protests. "It be okay, lad, we can't win every figh'."

"Foxy—"

"Jus' tell me it weren't a lubber ya los' ta."

Before Mike could even counter the fox's argument, Bonnie spoke up, said: "Freddy hit him."

The guard felt his head drop as if he'd just received the death sentence. Why Bonnie, why!?

Foxy's head snapped nearly 180 degrees to face the rabbit, eyes wide with surprise. "Freddy?" he questioned. "Ye be tellin' tha truth?" he couldn't believe his ears! Why would Freddy, another member of his crew, do a thing like that? Especially Freddy! His head snapped back to the guard, "Wha' did ya say ta get 'im ta hit ya?" At this Bonnie's eyes came alight with curiosity as well and he stared expectantly at the guard as well.

"I don't remember," he lied, sending the rabbit a glare. "My head's still a bit fuzzy." In a desperate attempt to change the subject, he glanced down at the object in the fox's hand. He pointed to it, "What's that?" he asked feigning curiosity. A huge grin broke out onto Foxy's face as he looked at the object.

"This be me spyglass." he said.

"Your what?" Mike asked.

"Me spyglass," he repeated, sitting down now as he raised the thing up to his eye, doing it pointedly. "I brough' it along 'n case I needed ta look fer ya. C'n only see so far wit' me one eye, y'know."

"It's basically a telescope." Bonnie surmised. Foxy sent him a frustrated glare.

"No, this be _spyglass_, no' a _tel'scope_. Ya need ta learn yer tools, matey." The rabbit just rolled his eyes not wanting to argue. He got his point across to the guard, that's all he cared about.

"Uh, why don't you tell us a story?" Mike offered, not wanting to hear the rabbit and fox's argument anymore. Foxy's face brightened.

"Tha' be a fine idea! I been waitin' ta tell ye me tales since tha nigh' I brough' ya outta tha' office." He put the spyglass down carefully, ushering Bonnie (despite his obvious resentment) in closer to the guard as he began.

Mike had to shift slightly as he sent a smug glance up at the rabbit beside him. There was an unspoken message in the guard's eyes. This was payback for telling the fox about Freddy hitting him.

Foxy began: "Lemme tell ya abou' tha time I got 'n a skirmish jus' like me matey, Mike..."

Foxy walked across a long rocky beach toward the infamous Blood-Reef Cove, where the supposed legendary treasure was hidden. He strode across the sands with cutlass poised in hand, navigating around the shattered monoliths that stood prominently from the golden terrain. He had to treat this place with the utmost caution, knowing well its reputation for traps. And these traps were ugly, trapping men like wild animals, maiming them only to taunt their failure to obtain the sacred treasure!

Foxy himself had fallen prey to one of these abominable traps once. It was sudden spark, but Foxy had his speed on his side, only losing one eye to the speeding rock fragments instead of both.

He had been young then. Now he was more acute to the unexpected and perhaps a bit faster as well, especially with a blade. There was a reason his name struck dread into the hearts of even the Imperial fleets, none daring to confront his crew without at least an armada as reinforcement. Some had even come to call him 'Foxy the Tameless', whose wild adventures had been muttered in lands afar. And of course as any pirate would be, Foxy was proud of this reverence.

And today was just another accomplishment to solidify his name in legend. But it wouldn't go down without a fight. Because there just so happened to be another, just like him, after the same loot. And as every pirate knew: there was no sharing of spoils outside of one's own crew.

So when the pirate fox ventured into the depths of the cave, it was no surprise the other man had prepared an ambush.

He kicked Foxy hard in the back, knocking him to the cold ridged ground. The fox was taken off-guard by this, but swiftly regained his composure as he rolled out of the way of a cutlass slicing the rock where he'd just been. Foxy quickly took advantage of the man's vulnerable position and kicked him in the stomach, following through with a swift swipe of his blade across his chest.

But the man avoided it, using Foxy's momentum against him and spinning him down onto the floor. He grabbed the vulpine's throat constricting it with all his strength. Foxy grabbed for his cutlass but it was just out of reach. So instead he decided to try the old Barroom method and socked the man across the face. He was puzzled to see the man simply absorb the blow and then counter with a punch of his own. That was a mistake.

In the brief second that the man had only one hand around his throat, Foxy shifted right, reclaiming his cutlass and smashing the man over the head with its blunt side.

He fell off the fox, dazed for only a second, but that had been enough time for Foxy to get to his feet and kick his blade far out of reach. Now the man was at the mercy of the fox who towered over him, blade glimmering in hand. The man—

The story was interrupted by the rattling of the stairs, someone coming down them. Simultaneously all three looked up to see Freddy descending with a pizza perched on a tray.

Mike immediately felt his mouth water and his stomach growl in hunger. How long had it been since he last ate?

Freddy saw the look on the guard's face, smiled in return. "I took the liberty of helping prepare food for you, with the help of Chica of course." he set the tray down beside the guard, following up with a paper plate and a few napkins.

"I brought these to help prevent a mess. As wonderful as pizza may be, it can make quite the mess! I also—"

"I'm guessin' this be an o'pology fer wha' ya did?" Foxy asked suddenly, staring at the pizza. Mike felt his cheeks get hot with embarrassment. Foxy had no idea what had happened...

"Well," Freddy began, "I've already formally apologized to Mike for my actions, but you are correct, this is part of my reparation."

Mike felt relief wash over him at Freddy's averting response. He could tell the fox felt like he had a part in all this and him finding out truth, what Mike had said about the fox? Something told him that he'd wind up with something worse than a black and blue face.

At that moment, Freddy clapped his hands together. "Would you two mind giving Mike and me, a moment?" he asked. "It'll give you a chance to grab a board game for when you come back."

The rabbit and fox both shared a look of reluctance, but knew it would be unwise to disobey the bear—their surrogate leader. So without a word, the two animatronics left, Bonnie going first.

Once they were gone and the door at the top of the stairs closed with a thud, Freddy stared at Mike who looked pale from fear. "Michael, my actions were uncalled for and it pains me to see the look of fear on your face. It will not happen again—that much I promise." He went silent for a moment, face darkening before he continued. "But we need to talk about one thing: Tell me about the man you talked to. I want to know everything..."

* * *

Mangle recalled being drawn out from Kid's Cove abruptly during one of the Fazbear crew's final shows. It was a cold November's day, and Toy Chica had suddenly asked to see her. Now Mangle had known the other animatronics long enough to be able to virtually predict their questions, but this time, she had been unprepared for what the chicken had to ask.

The white fox walked across the game area, avoiding the many children crowded around the isles of arcade machines as their fast glowing lights illuminated her face with colorful hues. She hadn't been particularly pleased to have received this information from Balloon Boy and not the chicken herself, but she knew how busy the animatronic was and therefore let it slide. She wasn't one to hold a grudge anyway.

When she arrived at the Show stage, the fox was puzzled to find Chica absent. Approaching Bonnie, she greeted him, asked: "Have you seen Chica around? I need to speak with her." But before the rabbit could respond, Mangle heard a somewhat discreet _psst_ from her left, turned to see the chicken-in-question half hidden behind the doorway leading to the Party rooms.

She sighed, letting her hands rest on her hips as she shook her head disapprovingly at the chicken's diffidence. Sometimes she felt like she played mother to these animatronics. When she saw the animatronic make no move to leave her cover, Mangle walked over.

"Chica, what's the meaning of this? Why are you hiding?" she asked firmly. The chicken still stayed behind the door frame.

"You gotta help me!" she pleaded. "I can't… I can't…"

"Whoa whoa whoa, just calm down Chica," she said. Once the avian settled sufficiently, she continued. "Now tell me what's wrong."

"It's my voice box; it's not working!" The frightened look on her face was enough to tell Mangle that the issue was serious.

"It's all right Chica. Hey, look at me, okay? Now what exactly's wrong with your voice box? You sound just fine to me."

Chica hesitated before speaking. "It goes all fuzzy whenever I try to sing. I don't know what's wrong!"

Mangle closed her jaw in thought. This didn't seem like a normal malfunction. "Maybe you should ask one of the employees to take a look at it." She offered. Chica shook her head.

"They'll just think I can't sing." She said bitterly. "They never seem to care when something goes wrong with our show…"

Mangle put a hand on her shoulder, "You pay them no mind. They don't have an ear for music like you or me."

"But what if they don't fix me? I want to be able to sing!"

Mangle smiled warmly. "They'll fix you, sweety, don't worry." She assured. "We won't be forced to live in disrepair."

The memory faded and the white fox glanced at herself in sadness. How naïve she'd been to say something like that… At least it was her that was forced to live this way and not one of the others, despite how isolated she felt because of it.

A swift metal thud sounded just outside her door in Kid's Cove followed immediately by a, "Dang!"

It didn't even take the voice for Mangle to know that the noise was caused by none other than Chica and her poor depth perception. She frowned, unfortunately the others had not escaped damages as she had desperately hoped. She especially worried for Bonnie since the fear of disrepair had condemned him to the stage. And she knew well that it was her that had inspired that fear.

The Chicken slipped into the room, hands checking her forehead for damage. "Marion wants to see us. Apparently it's about Bonnie."

_Bonnie?_ Mangle wondered worriedly. _Did something happen to him? Is he all right?_

He fears were quickly put to rest as the avian continued: "I guess we're gonna surprise him somehow and try to cheer him up." She shrugged doubtfully. "It probably won't work. He's too afraid of breaking himself. Ah well. Not like we have something better to do anyway."

The fox frowned at the cold indifference in the chicken's tone. What she wouldn't give to bring back happiness to this place...

* * *

**Author's Note: I worked my butt off to get this chapter done before I went on my trip and I'm so glad I was able to do it! It was a pretty easy chapter to write and it seems as though my writer's block has completely vanished. So updates should be closer together from now on.**

**Also as a sort-of tease to the next chapter, we'll get to see some investigations with Freddy.**

**See ya next time!**


	8. An Unexpected Hand: Part 1

Freddy observed the restaurant from his position on stage, noting the faces of the clientele scattered about the Dining Hall. Since he himself was unable to traverse the pizzeria at this time of day, he had to rely on sight alone to find this 'Head of Security' man Mike had informed him of. The guard had been somewhat helpful in his description, going slightly beyond the parameters of what could be considered vague. But still, an "average sized man in a t-shirt and blue jeans" wasn't exactly the most distinguishing premise for the bear to go on, especially when almost every adult customer that visited the facility wore said attire.

At least Mike had been feeling well enough to talk to him; his conscience was still heavy with guilt for his previous actions. And the guard finally went home, albeit reluctantly, and had agreed to return to work the next night. Deep down, Freddy knew the guard would make that decision, he just knew him that well. It didn't mean he was any less grateful though! He would walk out on-stage in a disheveled mess before taking a thing for granted.

A sudden brightness in his eyes drew the animatronic from his thoughts, alerting him to the show that was about to begin. He noted the presences of Bonnie and Chica at his sides, their bodies guided by the lines of code that permitted their Stage Performance. As a show ensued, many children gathered 'round to jump and sing along loudly to the kid-friendly tunes the band performed and to create a resounding ruckus throughout the restaurant. Freddy cherished these moments with the children and cursed the abominable protocol that kept them from truly interacting with them, like they all once did.

Eventually the show came to a close and the children (unwillingly) returned to their parents. Now, normally the Fazbear crew would simply remain in their positions and watch the kids laugh and play. But today, Freddy had other priorities—he needed to find that Security guard. Even though he was incapable of actually doing or saying anything should he find the man, he still wanted to see him—to have a face to recognize him by.

Just thinking about the man made him angry. It was no secret that Foxy had bitten a child once, it was a subject that most parents, much to Freddy's resent, discussed when here. Even the staff would bring it up from time-to-time. What annoyed the bear the absolute most however was the fact that most the 'accounts' of the Bite were over-exaggerated and blown out of proportion, drawing on inaccurate details of what had transpired in order to make a more dramatic story. Sure, the actuality of the event was nothing short of horrifying, but the way some people depicted it… it was just unfair. He knew Foxy loved the kids with a deep-seated passion, always telling them stories, engaging and looking out for them. Sure his adventures might have been a bit hapless, but he would _never_ hurt them, especially that girl whom he would immediately recognize every time she would visit. After the A.I. damage Foxy had taken, it was impossible to discern whether or not he felt remorse for his actions. But Freddy refused to believe that the fox felt nothing, but in all honesty, he just couldn't bring himself to discuss it with him, despite how angry and sad and dismayed he was.

So it made the bear angry that one of the staff would go to the trouble of visiting Mike during his shift to tell him about it. The 'Head of Security' individual was obviously trying to scare Mike off and Freddy was not okay with that. He was going to find a way to speak with this man, whoever he was, and find out his intent.

Glancing around the restaurant again, Freddy tried to single out each staff member. _Perhaps the Head of Security will be dressed similarly to Michael…_ the bear inquired. And he continued to analyze each employee in sight, searching for a clue that might reveal the man's identity. But as he made his way through all the staff, he found no such clue.

He didn't let that deter him though and continued to watch the room for any new faces. Hours passed and customers came and left like the tide. He was beginning to feel a stone of doubt pitted deep within him when he spotted a peculiar figure, reminiscent of Mike's description, take a seat at one of the far tables, close to Pirate Cove.

Freddy narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the man. _Could this be the 'Head of Security' fellow that Michael was talking about? _He wondered. It was, in many aspects, feasible. One: The man fit Mike's description quite closely; two: His actions and mannerisms seemed detached from the customer-bustle, sitting alone at a far off table where he could get a full view of the room without any blind spots.

This had to be his man! It wouldn't make sense for him to—

He frowned as he saw the man's face lighten up as a small little girl ran up into his arms in a hug-like fashion. _Well… that's not him… I suppose I'm a bit anxious for conclusion. I must have patience and wait. He'll make an appearance._

A thought crossed his mind as he briefly wondered if Bonnie and Chica were doing the same thing as him. He quickly shook the thought off as he reminded himself: _They don't know about this man._

Glancing over at Pirate Cove he felt a warm smile attempt to creep its way onto his face. Despite Mike's horror in discovering Foxy's past, he still allowed the pirate to be around him. Of course there were stipulations to that, the biggest being his fear of the fox, most likely not wanting to anger him by telling him to stay away. But nonetheless, it kept the pirate occupied, a thing that he needed desperately.

His attention was suddenly drawn to a young boy, no taller than his knees, who had climbed up onto the stage and was walking his way. The child hugged the bear's left leg, a smile bright on his youthfully round face. This was immediately met with disapproval.

One of the day-staff had spotted the child and was quick to remove him from the stage, claiming that touching Freddy was "against the rules."

Freddy stared resentfully at the retreating employee's head. It was a nonsensical rule, forbidding the children to come in contact with them. And it wasn't even done out of concern for the children's well-being, rather to save themselves from having to clean their suits. If his free roam wasn't inhibited…

He tried to calm himself by resuming his glance around the restaurant; that Security man had to be around here somewhere! He had never really noticed any of the day guards before, mostly due to his restrictions. He always assumed they just stayed settled in that cramped booth in the back.

Thinking of that booth brought back bittersweet memories of the establishment's early years. This was the time of prosperity for the establishment, and by extension, the animatronics as well. The place would be packed with children every day, all wanting to see the fascinating sentient animatronics that could walk and talk to them. Of course, the children didn't see them as animatronics and understandably so—they were pretty convincing when interacted with. There was one day, however, that he recalled with particular clarity.

It was Thursday, May 28, 1987—a very busy day for the pizzeria. Freddy had been down overseeing a few children in the empty aisles, dividing his focus on the two main centers of attention in that particular moment: Bonnie and Foxy. Bonnie had gathered a decent sized group of children on the main stage, all sitting facing him like a kindergarten class as he showed them his guitar. Every so often the bunny would smirk and point the instrument at the children, evoking a series of laughs from them. At one point the rabbit looked both ways, feigning caution as he leaned in close to the group and whispered to them. Even though Freddy was out of earshot, he still knew what the rabbit was telling them. He would say it to all the children: "I don't let the adults do this, but you guys are special so I'll let you touch my guitar."

Freddy smiled to himself; Bonnie meant every word of what he said. He was very protective of his guitar and therefore disliked it when others would handle it. But when it came to the children… they were the one exception.

Swiftly he changed his focus over to Foxy who had the largest crowd gathered around his Cove. It was hard to ignore him; his loud, rowdy voice reaching each corner of the restaurant as he reenacted one of his most famous tales: _The Crimson Tide_. He danced across the edge of the stage, pretending to fight off enemy pirates with his cutlass. Never once, though, did he forget or neglect the children's presence. No, Foxy was a talented storyteller, keeping the children fully engaged while focusing on the story itself.

Freddy had to admit that the fox's stories were quite interesting, even though they never really suited his taste. There was just a passion within that fox that set his tales ablaze; he cared about every detail he spoke of. And that reflected well in his stories.

He continued to watch the fox perform for awhile making sure to keep an eye on the children nearby to make sure they were behaving. But he suddenly found his attention drawn to the main entrance as a young man walked in, hands buried deep into his pockets. He watched the man as he made his way toward the back room where the security booth was, stopping to glance at Foxy in the process.

Freddy felt the distaste build within him at the memory. He would come to know that man well. And he would come to resent him not long after.

He closed his eyes heavily as memories of that man—Craig Peters—involuntarily entered him mind. He had been the first and only human friend the animatronics had made (other than the children), the day they had learned of his betrayal, how he had used them to murder those poor children... A part of him died that day and it didn't help that things would only get worse later on. The only moment of solace he had was in hearing that the police had made an arrest in the murder case and that justice had finally been delivered. But it had still been too late for those children whose faces they had once known...

He continued to think about the subject until the instant the clock struck twelve and the animatronics unwound for the night, the front doors flew open and Mike came sauntering in. But before even a 'hello' was exchanged, the animatronics noticed something…_different_…about the guard's face. Chica was the first to speak up.

"Are you wearing _make-up_?" she asked incredulously, noting the horrendous application around the still swollen part of his face. She stepped off the stage to get a closer view followed closely by a curious Bonnie.

Uncomfortable by the attention, Mike turned his face out of their line of sight, plopping down into a nearby chair. He'd expected this response from them, but that didn't mean it was any easier to face. "I had to cover this up somehow," he said, gesturing at his face in broad circles. "It looks like I've been trampled by horses!" Ever since he'd caught a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror of his apartment, he'd become extremely self-conscious.

Chica imitated a humorous huff, "Have you ever seen someone else with make-up on?" she asked. Mike sent her a glare.

"Yeah, why?" he asked, annoyed.

"Well, it doesn't look like it." She informed.

"You put too much on," Bonnie said, eyes narrowed in close observation of the face. Chica smirked.

"No, ya think?" she asked sarcastically, earning a glare from the bunny.

"Can we stop talking about my face, please?" Mike asked. "I know I put too much on, I did it on purpose so that the bruise would be hidden and people wouldn't question me. And it _worked_."

"Yeah, because ya scared them all away." The avian remarked.

"Oh, it's not that bad," Mike reasoned. Even though he knew his skills in cosmetics were virtually nonexistent, he still had to defend himself so that he didn't appear like a complete failure. Chica wasn't buying it though, and emitted a short loud laugh at his statement.

"Whatever you say, _Mikey_." She said, using the guard's nickname as a taunt. And she smiled victoriously as she saw the scowl form on the guard's face at the name.

"Whatever," he said dismissively, "my head hurts too much to argue about this right now."

This seemed to draw the attention of Freddy as he glanced up at the guard in concern. "Are you all right, Michael?"

"Yeah," he said exasperatedly, "just hurts is all. It's getting better though. Better than last night at least… That reminds me!" He heaved a large black bag onto the table, arm disappearing up to the shoulder as it fish around the inside.

"Remember what you said last night, Bonnie?" he asked, "About how you and Foxy liked the game we played?" He waited until the rabbit nodded; face contorting in confusion before continuing. "Well I searched around my apartment earlier and while I didn't find any board games, I _did_ find this," he plopped down a small stack of what appeared to be white rectangles adorned with intricate artwork on the top. Both Bonnie and Chica drew close in curiosity, pushing Mike aside as he was closest to the object of interest. The more curious of the two, Bonnie, tried to pick the stack up, resulting in an explosion of cards all over the table and floor around him. Much to the rabbit's surprise (and Freddy's displeasure) he cast a hard glance at Mike, feeling as though he was the victim of some cruel joke. The guard noticed this and was quick to explain.

"These are playing cards," he said as he began collecting the scattered cards around the animatronic. "They're used to, well, play games with. Games specifically designed for these cards. They're fun and most of them are pretty simple to understand."

"Why are there so many of them?" Bonnie asked, still resentful of his fumble.

"I don't know." Mike said simply. "My guess is that there has to be this many cards in order for the game to work."

"Are you sure it's a good idea to bring them here?" Freddy asked. "They seem awfully messy." He had to make sure his restaurant stayed as presentable as possible and not littered with tiny playing cards.

"They're not hard to keep together once you get used to handling them. They're thin and strong which makes it easy to slide them on top of each other." He illustrated this by lifting two halves of the deck in both hands and then mending them together in one fluid motion. When he noticed the animatronics' amazed expressions, he felt his face heat up. "I'm not that good at handling cards, there are some people that can do all kinds of crazy tricks with them!"

"So that's the game?" Chica questioned incredulously. "Finding different ways to put cards together?" What kind of fun was that? Mike shook his head.

"That's technically not how they're meant to be played, but people have made it into a game…kinda. It's more of an entertainment thing. What I was talking about though was actually games; ones with players and winners." He gestured for them to sit so that he could demonstrate.

"One of the games I play the most (and one of the only ones I know) is Poker—"

"What's Poker?" Bonnie impatiently asked.

"Well, if you had let me continue, I would've said that Poker is a betting game with many different forms of game-play—"

"Betting?" Chica questioned. "Betting what?"

"Normally money, but I don't play that way."

"Are you really that bad?" she asked. Mike deadpanned.

"No!" he said indignantly. "I just don't have the kind of money to risk like that. People usually bet a lot. And besides, some people get…_bitter_…when they lose." Freddy nodded, understanding the euphemism.

"I'd say that's the smartest way to go about it." he said, supporting the guard's decision. "I've witnessed enough from the transactions this restaurant has made to know that deals are risky and never without stipulation. But I must ask: If you don't play using money, then how _do_ you play?" The other animatronics stared expectantly at the guard, curious of the answer as well.

Mike simply smiled, disappearing beneath the table for a moment then reappearing with a bag on top. With a swift unzip the bag was open and a flood of small red and white circular chips poured out onto the table's surface, nearly covering it.

Freddy looked distressed by the things, not liking the fact that there were even more things to add to the mess that this game created. The others, however, just looked puzzled.

"The heck are these?" Chica asked, examining a chip in her hand.

"These are what players use as a substitute for actually money. Each player is given the same amount of chips which vary in value and then those chips are used to bet with. Just like real money except the winner doesn't walk away with anything and the losers don't lose anything either."

Freddy made a thoughtful hum, "So the game becomes recreational…" he surmised. "This is very interesting, Michael. What other aspects are there to this game?"

"Plenty." He said. "It shouldn't take too long to cover the essentials. Just enough to get us playing."

Just as he was about to continue, his thoughts were halted by the heavy swishing of curtains being thrown open, followed by the distinct clanking of metal footfalls on tiled floor.

"Avast!" Foxy called out curiously as he noticed Mike and the animatronics grouped around a table. "Whaddya dogs be doin' behind Cap'n Foxy's back?"

Mike waited expectantly for one of the others to respond but was puzzled when he noticed they were staring expectantly at _him_. After a moment Freddy spoke up.

"Care to fill him in, Michael?" he prompted. "This is your game after all."

The guard stifled a scowl. Freddy was purposely making him interact with the fox by putting him on the spot; it was obvious he wanted to keep the relationship the guard and pirate had before the prior had learned of the incident. And Freddy knew the guard would be too scared to confront the fox, especially here before all eyes… this bear was clever.

Turning to face Foxy, Mike held up the deck. "I'm teaching these guys how to play cards, wanna join in?" He hated how weak he was…

Foxy ran his hook along his jaw in consideration. "Cards, ye say? Ne'er heard o' 'em." As he approached the table he suddenly stopped, head tilting as he stared directly at the guard.

"Blazes! Wha' be tha ma'ter wit' yer face, lad?" he asked, genuinely concerned.

Mike just rolled his eyes, the embarrassing heat returning to his face. Why did this have to be a thing? "It's just something I put on to hide the mark on my face," he mumbled, hoping to move on from the subject. But Chica snorted.

"He's wearing makeup," she said teasingly, reveling in the look she got from the guard. Oh, how she loved to torment him, despite how easy it was!

"Wha's makeup?" the fox asked, slightly frustrated that everyone except him seemed to know.

"It's a thing people put on to look pretty." Chica explained. Foxy turned a quizzical stare onto the guard.

"Tha' be its use?" he asked, not seeing how it made the guard look any prettier.

"Look!" Mike shouted in annoyance, "We can all sit here talking about my face, _or _we could play this game."

"Wha' be these cards anyway?" the fox asked, turning his attention onto the game with mild interest. He went to pick up the deck to observe it, but tilted his head as it uselessly fluttered apart through his metal fingers. Mike's head drooped in exasperation.

"Those are cards..." he sighed, climbing under the table to once again reconstruct the deck. This was turning out to be more trouble than it was worth!

He continued explaining from under the table. "We use these to play with. Whoever has the best hand wins the bet. Ow!" he rubbed a spot on the back of his head as it collided with the underside of the table. "Damn it!" he muttered, glaring maliciously at the table. "Anyway, we use that to bet with," he said, pointing to the pile of poker chips on top the table. "Whoever has the most at the end wins."

This caught Foxy's interest. "Ya mean ta tell me ya get loot from this game?" he asked. Now things were serious!

Mike saw the look on the fox's face, smirked. "Gotta teach you how to play, first…"

* * *

The first game, Mike won by a landslide. The second…not so much. In the first game he had the advantage of experience and was able to read their expressions with ease. But the animatronics were fast learners, thanks to the perceptive-programming that helped achieve their sentience, and swiftly learned the ropes.

Freddy, as Mike had predicted, was the best; knowing exactly what expression or tone to use to persuade the guard and exactly how much to bet to accentuate it. And since Mike wasn't exactly an avid Poker player, he usually fell for these tricks. It made him feel violated every time he realized he'd been deceived, but he couldn't help but feel impressed by the bear's bravura. He was an intimidating force when it came to strategy, and Mike certainly never wanted to go against him in a non-game situation.

The second best player was, surprisingly, Chica. While she might not have had the same tactical brilliance as Freddy, she did have confidence and that proved very effective in this circumstance. She would glance up at him with a mischievous smirk, taunting him until he would eventually fold. Despite his claims otherwise, she knew it was her taunting that had caused him to fold.

Then there were Bonnie and Foxy. While they weren't the worst players (much to Mike's resent), they still seemed to struggle considerably with the concept of the game. Bonnie was never willing to stick his neck out and take a risk, and Foxy was overly ambitious. A few times Mike swore the fox was going to chuck his cards out of pure frustration, and that made him uneasy considering he was in the path of the storm.

They wound up playing five games in total, taking them well into the night. Despite how apprehensive he'd felt around the animatronics before, this night had felt…good. For once the animatronics seemed to be happy instead of the usual downtrodden attitudes they carried around the place. And despite how reluctant he was at first, Mike was beginning to feel hopeful. Maybe this was the start of something great…

They would've played all night, but Mike remembered a crucial fact.

"Crap, guys! I've got to do my _job!_ I'll be right back." He hopped from the table and hurried down the hall toward his booth. Shit! If the cameras in this place actually recorded their feed, then management would see him playing cards with the animatronics and not doing his job. And he guessed they wouldn't take well to him teaching them how to gamble.

But they'd never caught him before when he'd wandered out into the other rooms, so maybe that meant the cameras didn't record. Regardless he had to check to make sure.

Entering his office, Mike instantly retrieved his tablet from the desk scrolling furiously through each location. He let out sigh of relief when everything appeared as normal.

"Don't move."

Mike tensed as he felt a gun pressed firmly against the back of his head. All thoughts melted into one as his heart began to accelerate; fear overcoming his senses.

"Turn and face me. _Slowly_." The gunman ordered, voice low. Mike complied, hands up in a pacifying gesture.

The man was completely covered in dark clothing, gloves on his hands and a mask over his face. Only his eyes and mouth were visible. But Mike wasn't focused on that. He was more concerned by the pistol hovering over the bridge of him nose, ready to blow a hole in his head. The man spoke again.

"Now as long as you do what I say, I won't put a bullet in your head. If I even sense that you're trying to pull something I won't hesitate to kill you, got it?"

Mike swallowed hard before nodding once.

"Good." The man said. "Now, let's go take a little walk, shall we?"

* * *

**Author's Note: Sorry this took awhile, and that it's kinda short. Being out of town really cut into my time. This was supposed to be up yesterday, but Five Nights at Freddy's 4 was released and... well... it was too hard to stay away. Anyway, you won't have to wait too long on this cliffhanger because I've already got a head start on the next chapter. So I'll s****ee ya soon!**


	9. An Unexpected Hand: Part 2

Out in the Dining Hall, Freddy and the others began to grow concerned due to the guard's long absence.

"What's taking Mike so long?" Chica asked as she held her cards impatiently. She had a good hand, and she wanted him to be here to see it! Bonnie shrugged.

"Beats me!" he said. "Maybe he got tired of playing." He offered.

"Tired o' playin'?" Foxy repeated, disbelieved. "Why, things are jus' startin' ta get good!"

"Foxy, you're losing." Chica pointed out, not seeing why he was so cheerful. But the pirate's joy remained as he sent her a mischievous grin.

"I'm abou' ta turn this ship around, lass." He said, confidence laden in his tone.

Freddy just smiled at the fox's remark. It was a good feeling, seeing Foxy happy like this. It had been so long since last he'd seen his companions together like this and even if it wasn't perfect, it was still something. And it was all because of Mike...

But in all honesty, he wasn't quite sure how to feel about that. He was fine with the guard helping them and casually talking to them, but now it seemed like he was getting closer. And that worried Freddy. He didn't want to give the guard false hopes; they were associates, not friends. They did not befriend adults, just the children that came to visit them. Adults could not be trusted…

Bonnie suddenly let out a groan of impatience. "He isn't coming back," he said, "Let's just play without him."

"Give him a moment, Bonnie," Freddy berated softly, "He might be searching for something."

"What the shit!?" a voice gasped.

All at once, the animatronics looked up to see a completely clothed figure staring at them, his eyes wide through the eye holes of his dark mask. Mike was next to him, and Freddy noticed the gun aimed at the back of his head.

"Who're you?" Bonnie questioned completely confused.

The man didn't respond, instead pulling Mike closer to him and shifting the gun to the guard's temple. He spoke directly into Mike's ear: "All right, you little shit. I don't know what this is here, but if you think you're gonna scare me off—"

"Excuse me, sir?" Freddy interjected calmly. "I believe you were asked a question."

The man ignored the question, staring silently at them for a second as he thought something over. After a moment he spoke to Mike again. "Tell them to get onto the stage," he ordered. But Freddy spoke before Mike could.

"Sir, I understand you're upset about something, so how about you let him go and talk to us instead. There's no reason he needs to be a part of this." He reasoned.

The man considered this for a moment, but then looked up at the animatronics with stone-set eyes. "Get to the stage first." He said, gun not moving from the guard's temple.

Silently Freddy nodded and directed the bunny and chicken, who just stared confused at the man, onto the stage. Foxy began heading for his Cove, stopping to glare at the man. There was a flicker of a challenge within those metallic eyes as the fox gave a predatory grin.

"Ye be plunderin' tha wrong place, ye be." He said dangerously before entering his Cove.

The man faltered at the fox's words, feeling a sense of foreboding now over him. He quickly shook it off as he returned his attention to the stage, seeing the three animatronics staring at him expectantly. The duck was making him uncomfortable with its annoyed expression, as if he invoked no fear into it. He didn't like that and tried to reinstate his position.

"All right listen up, 'cause I'm not gonna repeat myself—I want your CPUs. So either you hand them over to me or I'll splatter his brains across the restaurant."

_CPU? _Mike thought, perplexed. "The hell do you want with their CPUs?" he asked.

"Shut up!" he barked, pushing the gun further into his temple. But he explained anyway: "I know all about this place, about their sentience. And I know a whole market of people who'd pay a pretty penny to get their hands on that kind of technology."

"You're gonna destroy children's characters?" Mike asked, incredulous. He felt the gun jab into his temple again.

"I said _shut up!_" he snapped. "Speak again and I _will_ kill you."

Mike let out a breath and reluctantly complied. How was he going to get out of this? He couldn't let the man 'kill' these guys; he'd be fired for sure! And he as much as he hated to admit it, he kind of…liked them. But he also valued his own life and knew that if he tried anything he could be killed. He just had to think…think and hope that Freddy could buy him some time.

The bear stared down at the man with a collected expression. "How do you expect to get away with such a crime?" he asked.

The man pointed to his face. "I've got a mask on. No one knows what I look like so no one will be able to trace it back to me."

"So you must be a technician, then," Freddy surmised. The man blinked in confusion.

"Wha—no. What makes you think—"

"Well, I assumed since you were after our Central Processing Units, you must have _some_ knowledge of the subject, am I correct?"

The man shook his head. "Quit trying to trick me! I'm getting what I came for."

"Sir, if you have no knowledge of technology, then how do you expect to get our CPUs? Do you even know what it is or where to find it?" Now the man was beginning to falter.

"I—I…"

Chica snorted. "Looks like someone doesn't know their stuff…" she remarked.

Suddenly the man growled, pulling Mike closer as he emphasized the pistol to the three on stage. "I've had enough of this shit! Either you give me your CPUs right now, or I'll kill this guard. You got me, robots!?"

"_What _did you just say?" One of the animatronics—the bunny—demanded, eyes going into narrowed slits.

The gunman stiffened at the harsh question, and Mike felt hope return as he realized what this man was getting himself into. The man stuttered.

"I—I said: I'm not playing around with you, robots! I'm not gonna—"

The man stopped abruptly, whirling at a noise behind him and firing blindly at it.

Foxy, who had been sneaking up on the man, was caught off guard by this and darted out of the way.

The shot was deafening, especially in such an enclosed space and Mike found himself disoriented by it. But his adrenaline quickly compensated and seeing the opening, he tackled the man who was still in shock over the fox, knocking the gun out of his hands. A battled ensued on the ground until Freddy quickly came and broke it up.

The bear firmly grabbed the man and showed him the way out of the restaurant, returning a moment later with a deep frown.

The whole room went deathly silent as he walked across the room heading straight for Foxy.

"I tol' tha' lubber he be plunderin' tha wrong place!" Foxy cheered, obviously excited from what had just happened. Freddy did not feel the same way.

"Are you all right, Foxy?" he asked. And it was in this moment that Mike realized why Freddy was so upset.

Foxy stood tall, grin on his face, as he nodded. "I be shipshape!" He declared. He had yet to notice that his right ear was missing.

Freddy imitated a sigh, "Foxy, where is your ear?" he asked.

The fox's arms shot up faster than Mike had ever imagined they could. The moment the fox realized there was an empty space where his right ear should be, he let out an ear piercing screech.

"Tha' bilge-suckin' scallywag! Lemme at 'em so I can keelhaul 'em!"

Freddy held him back, "No, Foxy. It's over now."

"Bu' Freddy!" he whined. "Wha' abou' me ear!?"

The bear went quiet as he pondered this, the answer not immediately revealing itself. Mike, who was rubbing his ear, spoke up.

"Uh, don't you guys have those spare heads in the back?" he offered. "Can't you just, y'know, put on a new one?" Was there something special about the head he was currently wearing? Freddy shook his head at the question.

"It's more than just the head; part of his endoskeleton is broken." He informed, voice a grim haze.

"Endoskeleton?" Mike asked, suddenly remembering that there was something inside their suits. "Okay, well, do you not have the parts to fix it?" Again, Freddy shook his head.

"Not for Foxy, we don't." He said bitterly. "And even if we did, we'd need a technician to fix it…" He continued before Mike could ask. "Since Foxy's no longer a part of the show, they won't even bother fixing him anyway."

"They lef' me ta rot, tha lubbers!" Foxy spat indignantly.

Mike glanced over the fox. All the tears and worn-out corners suddenly made sense—they were a result of the fox's isolation! He had been out of commission for over twenty years, and management had likely not touched him up since.

Sympathy for the fox suddenly filled him. It must have been hard enough not being able to see the kids, but to fall apart as well…

Freddy patted the fox's shoulder in support. "Don't worry, Foxy," he said, "we're getting your ear fixed." Chica, however, wasn't as confident.

"Uh, hate to burst your bubble, Freddy, but how exactly are we gonna do that?" she asked.

Freddy stared at her, "Because we're _all_ going to help." He said firmly. He then turned to the guard, asked: "Michael, do you know of anyone who could fix him?"

"I can go to some _stores_ and see if they have anything that might _help_." He offered. Freddy nodded.

"Great!" he said. "You can go do that while we clean up here."

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute!" Mike said. "My shift's just about over; I gotta get home and sleep!" He swallowed hard when he saw Freddy's smile fade, replaced by a cold displeased look. Pressing his eyes closed hard, he suppressed a groan. "Fine, I'll do it. But don't blame me if I fall asleep in a store aisle!"

Freddy's smile returned, bright as ever. "Thank you Michael!"

"Yeah, don't mention it…" he grumbled dryly as he headed out of the restaurant.

This was going to be a long day…

* * *

Mike had gone to what felt like every store in town in search for something to fix that stupid ear. And much to his dismay, he found nothing even relatively useful at any of them. Now the sun was far below the horizon and his chances for sleep were virtually nonexistent now, his next shift starting in only a few minutes.

He sighed, sipping on his energy drink as he stared at he entrance of the infamous pizzeria. It was the second one he'd had today, and it was working surprisingly well in keeping him awake. But underneath the energy, he could feel the hazy weight of exhaustion and with his lack of success, he wasn't sure how long he'd be able to keep this up.

_Stupid Freddy,_ he thought, _making me lose sleep to go searching for a stupid ear that doesn't even exist!_ _And what do they do? Just sit around all day, performing for kids?_

He felt the urge to just drive away from the pizzeria and take the night off, they couldn't stop him if he did! ...But when he returned the next night, they would be less than pleased at his lack of success...

He groaned drawing in a deep breath. _Might as well get this over with..._ he thought. With a heave, he rolled out of his car, not bothering it turn it off as he knew he'd be directed right back into it by Freddy. He unlocked the front door, throwing it open and coming face-to-face with an eager Foxy.

"Did ya find me ear?" he asked, hopeful.

Mike stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. "Not yet. I just stopped by to let Freddy know." He started to move past the fox, stopped. "Hey, can you keep an eye on my car, make sure no one gets into it while I talk to Freddy?" Foxy nodded with a confident smile and Mike headed into the main dining room to find the three band members standing on the stage, eyes glaring expectantly him.

Mike sighed. "Before you ask, no, I have not found a replacement for his ear yet."

"You sound upset," Freddy pointed out, "Is everything all right?"

"I'm fine, just exhausted... I haven't slept in over twenty-four hours."

"I assume you're going back out to look?"

"Gotta keep searching 'til I find it right?"

"Michael," he berated, "don't be so selfish. This is for Foxy."

The guard just rolled his eyes. "Whatever, I'm gonna hit your john before I go."

"John?" Chica questioned, bewildered.

"John. Y'know, toilet?" when he saw the confused looks on the animatronic's faces he just waved it off and headed for the bathrooms.

As he finally left the restaurant and plopped into his car, he ran a hand through his hair. This damned ear had better show itself tonight!

With a determined huff he put the car in drive and rolled out of the restaurant parking lot. He turned the radio on once he reached the highway, letting a soft tune carry out throughout the car. He began humming along to the familiar tune beating his hands against the wheel to the rhythm.

"Ahoy, Mike!"

Mike screamed, swerving the car in his startle. Once he regained control he shot his head to the back seat where a tall pirate fox sat grinning excitedly at him, his head pressed against the ceiling from his height.

Mike's eyes went wide. "Foxy, what are you doing here!?" he shouted. Management would kill him if they found out he'd taken an animatronic out of the restaurant.

The pirate simply grinned back at him. "I was watchin' yer car, jus' like ya asked!"

"I said watch my car, not get into it!" he said. "How'd you even get outside anyway, I thought you had special protocol to prevent that."

The fox just shrugged. "Ya lef' tha doors unlocked."

Mike went silent, sinking into his seat. Okay, he could handle this! He just had to keep Foxy in the car while he went into the stores... Why did this have to happen to him? He would've just brought the fox back, but he was already about forty-five minutes out from the pizzeria. He just couldn't waste the time nor gas to do it, he didn't have the money for it.

He glanced back at the fox again, seeing the animatronic staring enthralled out the back window. "This be a mighty fas' ship ye go' lad." he said, impressed.

"Foxy, listen to me—you have to act normal out here, nobody can know who you are. I could get in serious trouble!"

"I hear ya loud 'n clear!" he assured, hook swinging in accent. Mike frowned.

"Foxy I'm serious, you can't so much as show your face to anyone, and I mean _anyone_, got it?"

"Ye should be havin' a wee bit o' faith in yer Cap'n, lad. I be tha slipperies' pirate 'n all tha Seven Seas!" Foxy said, offended.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I'm just being cautious is all. You're... not exactly small. All it takes is one pair of eyes to spot you and we're done. Some people tend to overreact to things and a giant sentient metal fox would most likely be one of those things." He relaxed himself with a sigh. "Luckily it's late, and not many people are out. But on the off chance someone happens to spot you, just... play dead or something. Just so long as they don't know you're alive."

The fox just nodded distantly at the guard's words, eyes fixated on the outside world under the starry sky. It was an entrancing sight, seeing this world he had only ever heard of from the children that used to gather round his Cove. Of course he had memories of his voyages, though they were implanted ones. But it still was a whole other experience actually being outside the restaurant. There was so much to see...

"Wha' be tha'!" Foxy suddenly shouted, startling Mike. The guard whipped his head around in alarm, fretting to see a Police car or just a person looking in at them. What he found, however, was much less alarming.

Mike groaned, "Foxy, that's just a billboard."

"Wha' be a billb'rd?"

"A _billb'rd_, is just a big sign that gives directions." he said, mocking the pirate's accent. Oh this night was going to go over just swimmingly...

* * *

Foxy's first impression of the hardware store was one of confusion. He tilted his head at the tall building from their position in the back of the parking lot, not exactly sure what was inside. He turned a puzzled frown onto Mike, asked: "Wha' be this place?"

"This is the hardware store." He said flatly. "It's where you'll hopefully get fixed."

"This place can fix me ear?" he asked, tone rising in excitement. Mike on the other hand was a bit more pessimistic in his outlook.

"Maybe." He said, continuing on with a pointed tone: "Now I've been to a lot of stores today and so far have found nothing, so I wouldn't get your hopes up too high that this place'll have what we're looking for."

Foxy hadn't heard a word of what the guard had said, too caught up over the notion of his ear getting repaired. His gaze was trapped, mystified by the store and its glowing neon lights.

Mike noticed this and just shook his head, grabbing his keys as he stepped out of the car. He stopped when he saw the animatronic try to follow him.

"What're you doing?" he questioned.

"Going ta get me ear fixed." He answered innocently. Mike ran a hand through his hair.

"Look, Foxy, you gotta stay here, we can't have people seeing you."

"Why no'?"

"Because we just can't. Now I'll only be gone a few minutes, so just stay here and don't break anything!" He closed the door solidly behind him, locking it as he walked toward the store.

Foxy watched him walk until he disappeared into the store. With nothing to do, he glanced around the mostly empty parking lot, making out the flat blackness of pavement and the yellow lines seemed to hold some other dormant vehicles. This amused him for a few minutes, scanning the yellow lines up and down the length of the lot, before his boredom set in and he glanced back at the store entrance in frustration.

_Where be Mike? _He wondered.

Now he was staring to get annoyed. The guard said he'd be back in a few minutes, what was taking him so long? As he glanced around the parking lot again, his arm bumped something, resulting in a quick clicking noise. He glanced down to investigate, noticing the button he had pressed. It had the image of a lock on it; opened on one end, closed on the other. Processor whirring in thought, he ventured to press the side with the opened lock. The noise sounded again. He smiled.

_I guess it be up ta Cap'n Foxy ta come find ya… _

As Foxy approached the entrance, he stared warily at the two doors as they shot open on their own. He narrowed his eyes at the things, scrutinizing them intensely. Only after a moment did he dare to proceed through, stepping cautiously as he did so. He didn't like those doors…

On the inside, Foxy found himself immediately entranced by the strangeness of the place. There were giant shelves reaching up to the ceiling that was much higher than the one at the pizzeria. And there were so many of them, each jam-packed with all sorts of things Foxy had never seen before!

Something caught his eye and he began heading toward an aisle filled with lights.

He stopped directly underneath the vibrant display, tilting his head as he tried to determine what exactly he was looking at. The lights were bright and glimmered in every direction off of the many fine, transparent pieces that hung from them.

They might not have been gold, but Foxy still found himself attracted to these lights, and one in particular, a well-dressed chandelier, caught his eye. It was chrome-like, with a bright crystalline inset, catching the rays of light from the center and glowing with a light of its own.

He reached his hook out to touch it when a loud scrapping noise caught his attention. He swung his head around to face it, locking eyes with a peculiar display at the end of the aisle. He hurried toward it, having completely forgotten about Mike. When he arrived he found himself surrounded by strange array power tools.

He picked up a drill with his good hand, easily snapping the chain that was meant to secure it. He turned it curiously in his hand for a moment before growing bored and tossing it uselessly onto the floor. He did this with a few other large tools until he came upon a large reddish black forklift, a man stepping out and hurrying into the bathroom.

This piqued his interest and Foxy wandered over to it, glancing in at the controls. _What kind o' ship be this?_ He wondered, experimenting with the controls. He jumped back in alarm as the thing suddenly began to move on its own, rolling away from him at a slow pace. He watched it for a moment before shrugging and venturing elsewhere. The ship obviously wanted to steer itself.

As he continued walking he found himself so engaged in his surroundings that he failed to notice an elderly woman pushing a cart beside him. She stopped to stare up at him. Her eyes were practically invisible they were narrowed so much!

"Excuse me, sir?" she asked, voice wheezing from age.

Foxy stopped at the voice, turning to face the short old lady with a curious glare. She continued.

"Can you reach that box of nails up there?" she asked, pointing a trembling, spider-vein hand directly above her. "They put those darn things up so high, I just can't reach it myself."

Foxy smiled widely at the attention he was finally receiving, said: "Sure thin', miss!"

He walked over to the shelves, metal feet clanking on the concrete floor. Because of his height, he was able to easily reach out in front of him and grab the small pouch of nails. He handed them back to the old woman. "Thar ye be," he said, proud of himself for successfully performing a task. He turned to leave, but stopped when the old voice spoke again.

"Oh no sonny," she said, "these aren't the right size. I need the two inch ones."

Foxy frowned as she pointed back up to the spot with the nails. He had given her the wrong ones? Walking back over to the spot he hesitated, eyes glossing over the many small cardboard containers that lined the shelf, each one filled to the brim with individual packs of nails. And each box held a different size.

"Two inch," the old woman repeated after a moment.

Foxy felt himself start to get annoyed as he looked over the many containers. Which ones were the 'two inch'? There were all these weird markings on the boxes, none of which made any sense to the pirate. And the incessant gaze of this woman on the back of his head was quickly becoming a galling itch.

"Do you see the ones I'm talking about?" the woman asked. "The two inch ones?"

Foxy wanted to growl, not liking how this lady was pushing him. He stifled the feeling though, remembering what Freddy had told him about losing his temper, and kept looking for the two inch nails, he'd find them soon enough.

"No, sonny, they're over here, just above me." She pointed straight above her.

He swept his glance from the seamed old face to the spot, puzzled. He'd just looked over there! Walking over he decided not to waste time looking and instead, grabbed a hand full of containers and handed them to the lady. His patience was dwindling…

She took them all with a look of surprise, but that quickly changed as she grabbed a small pack of nails from one of them, holding them close to her eyes.

"These are the ones." She said, though it came out with a hinge of uncertainty. "Hmm…they seem kind of small; maybe I should get the next size up…"

Foxy began to feel a twitching urge forming deep inside his processor from the constant pressure, growing tired of this task. Thankfully the woman changed her mind.

"You know what, never mind, these'll do. Thank you, young man! Say…why does your face look so strange?"

Foxy slipped away before she could ask any more of him, wanting to find Mike and get his ear fixed. This place was starting to get boring anyway…

So, he walked around the store in search for the guard, traveling up and down aisles with a critical eye. Eventually as he was traversing a specific aisle, he heard a voice from behind him.

"Uh… can I help you… sir?"

Foxy whirled at the voice, meeting eyes with a man dressed in a dull blue shirt, the word: _STAFF_ imprinted across the chest in bright white. Foxy perked up; maybe this man could help him?

"Have ye seen Mike?" he asked, hopeful. The man seemed to be taken aback by the fox's reply, his gaze widening, but never leaving him. He took note of the fox's character, assuming whoever was inside the costume was putting on an act.

"If you're trying to solicit I'm gonna have to ask you to leave." The man said with confidence, though the worn state the costume was in was somewhat unnerving.

Foxy tilted his head, "I'm lookin' fer _Mike_." He enunciated the name so that the man would understand.

"Uh… well if you're looking for someone, I can try calling for them over the intercom."

"The wha'?" Foxy asked perplexed. This landlubber was speaking in riddles.

"Follow me," he said, beckoning the fox with a hand as he began heading down the aisle. Foxy followed, not bothering to question the man. If he could find Mike then that's all that mattered.

"So… there any particular reason you're wearing that suit?" the employee asked, eyeing it warily. He still wasn't sure whether or not the man inside was sane and he really didn't want to find out. Foxy, on the other hand, had a simple answer.

"It's agains' tha rules ta be caught wit'out it." he said.

"What are you, a pirate or something?"

Foxy's face lit up with pride as he tapped his hook off his chest. "I be a _Cap'n_!" he informed matter-of-factly. The man just nodded. This guy was a total loon.

They came to a stop at a tall white-painted beam that connected ceiling to floor. There was a phone attached to it, and the man picked it up, punching a quick code into the dial pad. He looked back at the fox, expectantly. "What's your friend's name?" he asked.

Foxy stared intensely at the phone, a look of skepticism in his metallic eyes. "Tha' thin's sapposta find Mike?"

The man didn't respond, instead brought the phone up to his mouth and began speaking into it. He said: "Could a 'Mike' come to the fron—hey!"

Foxy snatched the phone from the man's hands, speaking into it with a loud barking tone. "Oy! Mike! Show yerself 'fore I keelhaul ya!" The pirate's voice boomed out through the entire store with sharp intensity, slightly distorted by the intercom. The worker who had been guiding the fox was now rubbing his ear from the sheer volume of the pirate's gruff command. He frowned indignantly at the fox's actions, and tried to grab the phone back. He jumped about ten feet when the fox growled dangerously at him, his head snapping 'round to glare holes into the man.

"Fuck this," he said before sprinting frantically down the aisle away from the fox.

Only about a minute later did Foxy hear the angry stomping of feet heading his way, followed by the red embarrassed face of the guard as he swung into the aisle.

"Mike!" the pirate cheered. "Thar ye be!"

But the guard refused to even look at the animatronic, just grabbing his good hand and trying to lead him. "Let's go." He said through gritted teeth. The pirate didn't budge.

"Wha' abou' me ear?"

"They didn't have anything. Now let's go!" Again, he refused to move. "What is it?"

Foxy crossed his arms stubbornly. "Ye said ya were gonna get me ear fixed. I wan' it fixed." Mike rolled his eyes at the fox's child-like behavior.

"I can't do it here; they don't have anything to fix it with! We'll have to keep searching. Now _let's go_ before you get us both in serious trouble! I told you not to leave the car anyway."

Foxy wasn't happy about this, but didn't argue any further. As he followed Mike out of the store, Foxy muttered: "Tha' place be fer landlubbers anyway."

* * *

**Author's Note: Well, there you have it! Only one more part to this particular story arc and it's going to be a good one! So look forward to more little adventures with Mike and Foxy as they try to fix his ear. Before I leave you, I just want to say thank you for all the support you guys have been giving this story so far. I was skeptical about continuing it at first, but you guys have really motivated me. And for that I am grateful! Sappiness aside, I look forward to continuing this story, and have big plans for it that are only just beginning to unravel! So I hope you enjoy and I'll see you next time! **


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